Of Sanity And Sages
by A. E. Watercrest
Summary: Sarah has gone on with her life. She is on winter break of sophomore year of college, and decided to not waste another free day wondering about the Labyrinth and its evil Goblin King. Instead, she bundles up and heads to get her fortune told by Madame Zini. But something goes horribly wrong and Sarah finds herself back to where she never thought to be again - back in the Labyrinth.
1. Boredom

Sarah huddled deep into her thick hoodie and peered out from under the over-large hood. Soft candlelight illuminated the small space of her dorm room. Two bunk-beds were lofted over desks, side by side. The matched desks glowed with flickering candle light, outlining a TV balanced between the desks' edges and throwing the lofted beds in darkness. Faint dark lines curled down the base of the TV to a video cassette player pn the floor, bought at the same thrift store as the TV.

Some would say it was cozy. Sarah would say it was a mismatched version of claustrophobia just waiting to happen. She curled her feet up on the plaid, slightly ripped couch that barely fit between the two bunk ladders and sighed. At least the view was decent up on the sixth floor. The campus was entirely coated in a thick sheet of snow and made everything sparkle. A glittering wonderland of beauty and grace, as some artists and poets would insist. What was better than a world of winter and white untouched snow?

Sarah's eyes narrowed. The snowstorm that had hit campus just after winter break was a fury to watch. Lightening shot jagged cracks in the sky with pure energy. Thunder played music with Sarah's eardrums. The wind had howled so loud Sarah had imagined a choir of banshees had come to scream in time with the chaotic beat of thunder. And as for the now glittering, beautiful snow? It swirled in a white menace cloaked in darkness – shrouding everything except the flashes of lightning.

Sarah had stayed up, wide awake with her swirled tan comforter clutched in her hands. There was nothing like the power and threat of a storm to keep her awake and her imagination running like wild. She didn't mind rain and she didn't mind snow. What she did mind was the effects it had.

The power was out. The campus was a white-covered ghost town, since most of the wise parents or college students had left as soon as finals were over. Sarah had enjoyed the quiet and decided to write her paper and sleep a night in her lumpy twin loft before heading out. What was the harm in finishing her three page paper before she left? Why should she rush home to her step-mother, so eagerly waiting to quiz her about college boys which were, shock of all shocks, just about as interesting as the high school boys?

It seems the best and only reason would be the snowstorm. Her roommate had mentioned it before moving her overly bubbly, giggling self out of the dorm room, but Sarah had shrugged. She had seen snow before, after all. It just hadn't occurred to her what northern weather could do overnight.

Sarah looked out the window grinned a little. As far as story-lines went, hers was the perfect beginning to a horror story. Sarah closed her eyes and leaned back. It would start with a college student, alone, trapped by a snow-storm and a paper due. The viewpoint would spiral down, showing the weighed down, sleeping tree branches curling dark fingers toward the streets. Ice would coat the concrete in thick ripples, impenetrable. The sky would be grayer, dimming the whole scene in ominous overtones. Perhaps it would zoom in on a properly beaten college car, wheels encased in ice, before scanning up the side of an average college dorm with a single light flickering in the window.

Sarah giggled and opened her eyes to look out the window again. The sky was crystal blue and the roads, though slippery, weren't nearly as slick as in her imagination. On top of that, she would be an uninspiring character to follow. There should be a buxom blonde with a too-tight shirt, and at least a few other college girls in the hall to scream and carry on and make miserable, illogical escape plans with. Instead, she was a brunette with bed-head and a huge hoodie with a locked door. Sarah grinned and looked at her closet. And how could she forget her dad's baseball bat? How very unsporting of her.

Sarah blinked. What could she do to amuse herself? She could use her hour of battery life left on her computer or watch static on her TV. No. Not even static. The power was completely out, after all. Sarah frowned. She could read a book by candlelight – one that she had read a thousand times and took up tons of room under her desk in a make-shift book shelf. Or she could think.

Thinking it was, then. Sarah propped her chin on her hand. She could think about what she was going to do with her English major after college was over. She could think of the amount of debt she had already collected, her old but still dependable car, or how she was going to get enough cash to update her high-school wardrobe. She could calculate her interest rates, try to think of more creative ways to stretch her food budget, or apply for internships over the summer. But even those absolutely thrilling tasks need the computer up and running.

Sarah rubbed her forehead and felt a familiar lethargic feeling sweep over her or a trip to a store. A very likely closed down store. What were they going to do? Register purchases by notebook paper and ink?

Sarah sighed. She was BORED! Bored was bad. Bored was very, very bad. Sarah stood up and thought of pacing. There was no room. There was nothing at all to distract her. She squeezed her eyes shut and flopped back down on the couch. It was useless.

Sarah had made it a goal to read as many stories, myths, legends, fairy-tales, and fantasy stories she could get a hold of. She was an English major, specializing in myth and legend. In all of her readings, required and not, she had not found a story to beat her childhood favorite. And she was determined to usurp her dangerous delusion. Sarah rubbed her temples, trying to remember all of the excellent reasons why she shouldn't give in to boredom.

In the spirit of her favorite story, her childhood self had collected figurines. She had a stuffed animal Sir Didymus, a doll dressed in white trapped in a gazebo, a silver Goblin King statue, and even a childhood maze. She played pretend, went to parks to act out the script, and even memorized an entire book. The book. The Labyrinth.

But favoritism had turned to obsession, and obsession had led her to believe she had actually been in the story. If she closed her eyes and dug very deep, she could still pull out the tattered memories of smells, sights, sounds, and even taste the faint sweetness of a peach. She had been a middle-school woman at the time, and too old to run _that_ far away with her imagination. At the time, she had sworn all the way to the kindly psychologist that she had, in fact, been in the Labyrinth. She had fought against trials unnumbered to claim the baby named Toby she had wished away.

However, she had woken the next morning to find no evidence to support her wild night with a Goblin King and meeting his Labyrinth challenge. There were no leftovers from her victory party that night – and with as many creatures that were crammed into her bedroom, there should have been. Not even Toby looked any different. The only person who was different was Sarah. These were all facts the psychologist carefully pointed out to her confused younger self. Logically, without evidence, Sarah's tearful confusion was unnecessary.

The psychologist had leaned back. Was she able to contact Ludo, Sir Didymus, or Hoggle? Sarah had shook her head. At the time, she had desperately tried to see them, talk to them. Her psychologist gave her Kleenex. Her obsession must have made its way into an extremely vivid dream, the psychologist had reasoned. With that, Sarah's world spun.

Had she gone crazy? Did she actually experience a night in the very pages of a book she had simply been dying to be a part of? The questions went from being threatening to being ligament. She had looked for evidence and found none. There were no goblins, no crystals, and no friends waiting. She had to accept the truth of the matter.

Scared, alone, confused, Sarah had brushed away her tears. She had vanquished the Labyrinth and defeated a Goblin King. Even if it was just a dream, the feeling of being a heroine was as strong as ever. She could cure herself. She could!

Sarah had taken her delusions by the horns, so to speak. Stuffed animals neatly stored on shelves made their way to thrift stores. Her toy maze was donated to a nearby elementary school. Even her silver replica of the Goblin King and the white-gowned doll found its way into the hands of a store owner who bought them off of her online. And now, all she had left was a book she still couldn't quite bare to leave behind and a memory she couldn't quite shake.

It was creepy as hell. And the memory of the dream always came to her in times like this: when she was alone and bored.

Sarah shook her head and crossed over to turn some upbeat music on her computer. The pop music filled the room nicely. Very un-Labyrinth like. She rummaged in an overstuffed drawer and found her hot coco mix and pulled a clean mug off the top of her microwave. After a quick trip to the nearby bathroom for sink water and a long wait for hot water to pour out of the spout, a semi-hot drink snaked sweetly down her throat.

In fact, after her coco and the now-dead laptop, Sarah was just warm enough and just bored enough to get really, really stupid. It was either get out or give in to her mental one-track imagination. Sarah put on her snow boots, bundled up enough to give the impression she weighed a hundred pounds more than she did, and went outside.

The cold was blistering. Sarah felt her face go raw and red almost as soon as she walked outside. She stomped her determined way out the door, down the empty campus, and to her car parked on the abandoned parking lot. Sarah snorted. Yeah, this would be the perfect horror story, Sarah thought darkly. She launched herself at her car, attacking the frozen car door and rolled inside.

Her rust bucket hemmed and hawed at her. Sarah could swear it was giving her an earful about stupid college girls driving on a cold day like this, waking it up to be her chauffeur.

"Sorry," Sarah whispered, "but you and I both know what happens when I'm bored."

As if hearing the magic word, her car gave a muffled purr and started working. Sarah grinned and patted the dash.

"Thanks. You're the best." Sarah told the car. She reached back and took out the small snow pick/brush.

It was good work, tiring work. White snow fluffed in light piles around her car, showing bits and pieces of its red metal body beneath. Since she didn't check the time, she had no idea how long it took her to uncover her car. By the time she was done, her clothes were covered in snow and she was sweating. Cold and sweat and layers didn't mix well. Sarah ripped off her hat and turned up the heat. She slowly made her way off campus, listening to the snow crinkle under her tires.

On impulse, Sarah pulled carefully onto the deserted streets and down Main. She drove for a while and turned off into a side street. "Boutique Corner," the college crowd called it. On a good day, people window-shopped and hung out at the unique Mom and Pop shops crowded inexplicably together. The unique displays caught her eye, and Sarah slowed down. She drove past dark windows, looking. It wasn't long until Boutique Corner gave way to residential areas.

Flickering Christmas lights surrounding a poster grabbed Sarah's desperate attention. She had passed by the simple white house time and time again. Lights were on in the driveway, as if telling Sarah that she was welcome. Sarah glanced down the dangerous street and back at the house she was idling by. Why not? Sarah pulled into the driveway and glanced at the sign, as if checking to make sure the sign hadn't changed.

_Madame Zini, Fortuneteller. Open Monday through Friday from 9a – 4p. $15_

* * *

As promised, I will be re-writing the chapters so that the story flow is much more addictive and real, as per request of reviews. I will try and post a re-written chapter two tomorrow (11/24).

As always, I really enjoy reviews, comments, critiques, and reactions. Any and all are welcome!


	2. Madame Zini

Sarah shook her head, second thinking the choice she made to drive here. What if she would be a bother? Maybe Madame Zini lived in the house. What if she was taking a bath or something?

Sarah deftly turned the key and let the engine die. So be it. She had to distract herself somehow. Even if Madame Zini was not home or was not telling fortunes today, Sarah could divert herself for a while thinking of the various reasons why the woman had not opened her door.

Maybe that would be enough to keep her mind busy. For a while.

Sarah's head made a soft thunk against the steering wheel. Part of her truly wished she did not have to deal with her highly imaginative dreams or fear the paths her mind would take her down. That therapist had done her job well. Sarah was very, very careful how involved she became in stories and books.

She shoved herself back and opened her creaking car door. Metal squeaked on metal as the door slammed shut behind her. The sounds echoed down the deserted street. Sarah looked around and forced herself to smile. She literally waddled up the empty one-car driveway and her smile turned natural, listening to the water-proof fabric slide noisily against each other as she walked.

Madame Zini's house was a regular townhouse. Off -white siding covered the structure. The regular bits of dirt and discoloration had lodged up between the cracks, giving the house a homey feel. Red accent shutters and doors stood out in striking relief, and the roof was covered in grey shingles. Frozen bits of a garden poked out valiantly, showing a few glimpses of blackened and browned plants.

Madame Zini had put salt on her walkway. The salt had worked a little. Pockets of snow had melted slightly and re-frozen to a glassy sheen. Sarah took a deep breath and played Russian roulette with her strides, trying to step where the least amount of salt pouches had fallen. Her feet cracked through the ice-covered snow.

It was a hopeless case to not fall. Sarah toppled three times in the small walkway to the door. Two times she fell forward, getting an up-close and personal view of her favorite snowball-fight gloves. They were an unattractive pea green color and coated in a thick plastic shell with fur on the inside. The other time she had fallen sideways, giving her hip a chance to break concrete. Her hip failed.

She reached the door and tried to brush the snow off her puffy knees and right side before ringing the doorbell. Okay, to be honest, she tackled the doorbell. If a lineman only had one arm, he would have shoved the same way Sarah had pushed the little, completely innocent button. She was an idiot for leaving her cozy and claustrophobic dorm room, wet, sweaty, dusted with snow, and now sore to boot. The best she could say is that she wasn't bored anymore.

Madame Zini's doorbell sounded like church bells. Peals of brass tones filled the house and leaked out of the cracks of Madame Zini's bright red door. Sarah listened, slightly entranced to the random pattern of bell tones. It seemed to be the tune of wind chimes on a breezy day. Madame Zini opened the door sharply, making Sarah melt as the warm air rushed out.

"Welcome, welcome," Madame Zini gestured kindly, costume rings glinting gaily.

Madame Zini's hair was black with silver streaks, frizzing out in a static storm of chaos. Her mumu dress was a swirl of bright blues and red, burnt orange and soft pink that floated over her bare feet, which were painted in the order of a rainbow. She smiled, and Sarah noticed a little of the dark lipstick had streaked her front tooth.

"Don't be shy!" Madame Zini exclaimed, moving back a little and opening the door wider, "I have been expecting you."

Sarah stepped over the threshold and blinked. Madame Zini had decorated her hallway in scarves. Her ceiling was covered in cool-colored pattered scarves, woven in the kind of organized chaos of color. The walls were covered in hanging folds of scarves. Sarah saw swirls of gold, silver, peacock feathers, and jewel tones. She got closer and saw that the scarves on the walls were hung by brass thumbtacks.

Madame Zini waited patiently by the door, a mysterious smile flickering in her eyes as Sarah straightened from her examination.

"I haven't ever seen a room decorated like this," Sarah told her, tugging at her gloves.

Madame Zini sashayed to a doorframe made of layers of beads in every style, color, and material. She pushed the beads aside and glanced over her shoulder.

"When you are ready, come through. There is a coat rack behind you."

Sarah turned. Sure enough, in the corner behind her was a bare brass coat rack. Sarah crossed over to the rack and immediately began to strip off her layers. Her matching hat and gloves, black puffy coat, mid-calf boots, and ski overalls were stripped off in turn and arranged near the coat rack. After she thought a moment, she took off her wet socks and shoved them in her boots. She carefully pushed aside the beads and came into the next room.

Madame Zini had a round table covered in a burgundy table cloth. An elegant wooden case held a stick of smoking incense. Scented smoke wafted thin streams into the air. A shallow, wooden bowl sat next to it, covered in what Sarah tentatively identified as a cheese cloth.

The table was the only classic fortune-teller element of the room. After that, the room was decidedly uncharacteristic of any fortune teller Sarah knew of, not that she knew many. Mirrors hung at odd angles in every wall of the room. Shapes dangled from twine hung on dark-blue nails the same color as the walls themselves, carved in crystals or silver. The overall impression was as chaotic as the scarf pattern in the hallway.

Sarah looked around the room and saw herself reflected in the mirrors' faces, watching herself look around. She was clear, cloudy, splotched, streaked, and warped. She was framed in wood, plastic, spots, fabric, silver, and gold. Sarah grinned a little. There was no way Madame Zini would be able to get away with a trick easily.

As if conjured by the thought, Madame Zini backed into the room through the beaded doorway Sarah had just used. Sarah swung around. Her pulse jumped.

"Jeeze!" Sarah admonished, her hand coming to her throat.

Madame Zini hefted a ceramic vase and grinned. She set it on the table and Sarah's gaze darted between the beaded doorway and Madame Zini.

"There are more entrances to the hall and out of here than that door way, aren't there?" Sarah asked, pointing at the only visible entrance and exit.

"Of course there are," Madame Zini told her. "I'm a fortune teller, not a ghost."

Sarah smiled back and crossed to the other end of the table. Madame Zini carefully poured clear liquid from the vase onto the cheese cloth. She peeled up the corners and carefully pushed the cloth into the vase.

"What's that?" Sarah asked. It rippled with rainbows like a freshly blown bubble.

Madame Zini looked up at Sarah. "Fortune telling liquid," she answered vaguely.

Sarah nodded sagely. "Mmmhmm. Of course it is. I wonder why I asked?"

Madame Zini nodded sagely back. "I was wondering that myself." She pushed the wooden bowl to the side and tapped the table. "Put your money on the table, Sarah."

Sarah tensed. She looked up at Madame Zini slowly. "How did you know my name?"

Madame Zini just stared, smiling. Sarah dug through her pockets and pulled out a ten and a five. Well, every woman had her secrets. A fortune teller had to live off of them. The crinkled bills balled on the table.

Madame Zini carefully picked up the bills and straightened it with the tips of her fingers. She gently set the money in the liquid, picked up the bowl, and swished it around. Sarah arched an eyebrow. She never knew a fortune teller to not simply pocket the money.

As if hearing her thoughts, Madame Zini pierced her with stormy eyes. "This is where my sister tellers and I diverge," she murmured. "Sarah, you must pick a crystal, a trinket, and a mirror for this telling to work."

"What for?" Sarah asked.

Madame Zini set the wooden bowl down gently. "If I told you, that would influence your decision. Choose."

Sarah looked around the room. This woman would not make her nervous without a good reason. Her voice was cool and even. "I can pick any mirror, any crystal, or any trinket? What if the mirror is too heavy or the trinket too far away?" Sarah looked up at the ceiling.

Madame Zini shrugged. "Pick what you like, Sarah. Let me worry about that."

And so Sarah looked far more carefully than she had before. She recognized some of the crystal stones: amethyst, obsidian, tiger-eye, emerald, ruby. Others looked very foreign and strange, and many were not in the classic spear shape. Sarah picked one that looked like a blooming flower bud and was a very deep blue. She set that on the table and looked at the trinkets. All of them were either a tinny gold or covered with a cheap silver plating. Sarah frowned and finally settled on one that looked like a curling star shooting from a wand. Lastly, Sarah looked at the mirrors.

Sarah took her time, looking a the surface and how she was reflected, at the framework and the style. She finally pointed at one in the right corner of the room on the ceiling. It showed a pearl sheen reflection, softening her features to look more like a beauty, and surrounded by a simple frame of dark wood. Madam Zini nodded and stood. She grabbed Sarah's hand and positioned her just so under the mirror.

"To get it, you have to catch it," Madame Zini warned.

Sarah nodded, still looking up. Madame Zini sighed and thumped hard on the wall. The mirrors jolted, thumping in unison, but only Sarah's mirror fell.

It was heavier than it looked. It fell onto Sarah's hand with a resounding smack and Sarah's eyes stung. It hurt. She hauled the heavy mirror to the table and propped it up on the leg near Madame Zini's side.

Sarah rubbed her hands and looked up into the thoughtful eyes of Madame Zini. Madame Zini gestured for Sarah to sit, seeming not the slightest bit embarrassed to be caught looking, and braced her hands on the table.

"Are you sure that these are what you pick, Sarah?" Madame Zini asked carefully, as if weighing her words.

Sarah looked around the room again and nodded. "Yes."

Madame Zini just looked at her.

"Is something wrong?"

"I will tell you a something for free, Sarah." Madame Zini pulled a stool from under the table and sat wearily, "and I usually charge for everything."

She leaned over and picked up the mirror. She dropped it on the table and leaned back to look up at Sarah. "This mirror brings bad luck to everyone who chooses it. But you chose it, affirmed your choice, and that cannot be undone."

Madame Zini breathed out slowly before speaking again. "Are you sure, positively sure, you want me to read your future today?"

Sarah looked at the beads to the exit. She sighed and laced her fingers together. She would see this through. If anything, it was the most distracting thing that had happened to her since the Labyrinth dream. "I came to you to read my fortune today."

Madame Zini nodded, not smiling anymore. She reached under the neckline of her dress and pulled her own crystal out. It was a flat, clear disk hung on a thin gold chian. She rubbed it a few times and reached for the bowl of water.

Sarah watched as Madame Zini carefully poured the water on the surface of the mirror. As she watched, the water turned thick, like syrup, and dripped slowly onto the mirror's face. It rippled out in a circle as Madame Zini poured and rearranged. Madame Zini went from pouring a sphere to pouring into a slowly growing rectangle. As the last drop dripped from the bowl, the liquid touched the frame, seamless.

Madame Zini's eyes were wide. She quickly smoothed her face and looked up at Sarah questioningly. "That has never happened before. Not in all my years of fortune telling."

Sarah cocked her head. "The change of shape, the perfect timing, or the money staying in the bowl?"

Madame Zini chucked nervously. "Liquid shouldn't change shape in the middle of being poured. Not without a container."

Madame Zini muttered something and started rubbing her crystal with a vengeance. Her eyes darted around and she stood, knocking over her stool. She went to the wall behind her and twisted a crystal serving as a doorknob. The walls cracked and mirrors swung out, displaying a cavity of filled shelves.

Sarah was positive Madame Zini did not reveal her hidden doorways without a reason. She peered into the open space to see Madame Zini, hunched over and clawing near the back of the shelf.

Sarah saw stacks of crystals, trinkets, incense, bowls, and jugs of fluid all carefully organized and labeled. Madame Zini pulled out a box and set it on the floor. It was filled with tallow candles. Madame Zini picked out a candle and held it up.

"I hand-dipped this one," Madame Zini explained briefly. She pushed the box back to the depths of the closet. "I have a feeling I will need it."

Sarah watched, silent. Madame Zini picked up an incense stick and touched it to the white wick. The flame flickered strangely on the fluid-covered-mirror. She gestured to Sarah. "Come here."

Sarah walked over and stood in front of Madame Zini's toppled stool. Madame Zini backed away and gestured at crystal. "State clearly why you chose your crystal and set it gently in the liquid."

Sarah picked up the crystal and admired the way it caught the light, hardly noticing as Madame Zini backed away. "All of its layers are the same dark blue color, a perfect lapis lazuli. The color is mysterious, deep. Like looking down into a clear sea. That is what first drew me.

Then there is the shape, a tight budded flower. It hasn't bloomed. It hasn't reached its peak, and no one knows how it will unfurl." Sarah wrapped her fingers around the bud tip and set it gently into the liquid. It floated lazily on the surface, spinning.

"Do the same with the trinket," Madame Zini instructed.

Sarah frowned, picking it up. This one was harder. She turned it in her hand. "Its fake, and cheap, just like all the other trinkets on your wall." Sarah looked up quickly, "No offense."

Madame Zini nodded and gestured on with a wave of her hand.

"I don't care about its color, and I wish it was more solid than this." Sarah continued, turning back to examine what she held. "I guess I picked it because magic and fantasy will always have a part in my life, whether it is real or not, or whether I want it to be or not."

Sarah set the trinket down with just as much care and watched it sink, resting against the mirror's pearl face.

"Now look into the mirror, child," Madame Zini ordered, sounding strained, "and speak your own fate."

Sarah folded her arms over her chest and glanced over at Madame Zini, huddled in a corner and clutching her candle. "You are a very odd fortune teller," Sarah told her.

"No," Madame Zini disagreed, pulling her rainbow toenails closer to her body. "No sane, true teller would want to read your fortune. You want to know?" Madame Zini asked waspishly, "Then you find out yourself."

Sarah paused, assessing Madame Zini. The woman looked pale and drawn. Sarah shrugged and rubbed her arms. Goose bumps had broken out. She would see this through. She never took on a challenge she didn't try to finish. Not when she was younger, and not now. Besides, she was so far from bored that it was almost comical. She leaned over the bad-luck mirror.

Sarah was startled to see her face look so distorted. Her skin looked smooth and luminous, her eyes were darker, and her hair was softened to a cloud. Her lashes were darker and longer than should be and a light blush accented her cheekbones. In reality, she knew she was still frozen, half-damp, and looked slightly better than a half-warmed fuzz ball.

"I look… beautiful," Sarah announced on a whisper. "More beautiful than I should be," she murmured, a bit louder.

The colors in her eyes started to swirl, replaced by the bubble-rainbow of the liquid. "The colors are mixing, fading," Sarah announced, fascinated, watching as the rainbow rearranged and shifted her features.

She watched carefully. "The color of one of my eyes is bleeding into the other, and my cheekbones are changing shape. They are getting sharper. My hair is getting lighter and... frizzing... a little..."

Sarah trailed off. She knew this face. It had haunted her nightmares even now. She tried to look away from the mirror and found, panicking, that she couldn't.

"Th-the Goblin King?" Sarah asked. Panic locked her in a vice. No! No, no, no, no, she wanted to chant. It wasn't real. He wasn't real. Her winter-time diversion had turned into what she was trying to avoid.

"Madame Zini-" Sarah shrilled.

"Stop fighting!" Madame Zini barked sharply. "You have begun a telling. It will be far worse if you don't stand there and finish it!"

She tried harder to look up, to pull away, but she simply could not do it. Her gaze and her body were completely beyond her control. Her hands lay flat on the burgundy tablecloth. It was what she had been told to fear, this uncontrollable focus she had on the Labyrinth. It was what she had feared since childhood.

In this most extreme of moments, Sarah's found her voice. "He's smirking, as usual."

Not her most relevant of comments. Panic swelled and Sarah clamped her jaw. What was wrong with her?

Sarah braced her hands on the table and tried to push away. The mirror seemed to respond, spanning out to fill every corner of her sight. Her lips parted the same time as The Goblin King's lips opened.

"Welcome," Sarah spoke with the Goblin King.

"Sarah! Calm DOWN!" Madame Zini shrieked.

Right now, Madame Zini was the expert. Sarah forced herself to relax. She shoved her fear back. Instantly, the picture expanded, taking in the Goblin King's poet shirt, dark blue pants, and glossy boots. Shaking with effort, Sarah narrated.

"I can see all of him. He looks younger," Sarah noticed with surprise.

His face looked smooth and his hair was an even more striking blonde than she remembered. He was skinnier, lankier, and far more toned down from his eccentric wardrobe. A red flush suddenly seeped into his cheeks and his eyes sparked fire. The picture pushed back farther, showing a trio of women circling him: a young girl, a thirty year old, and a elder stooped over from age.

"He is angry, losing his temper with the three women circling him. The young girl is in front of him, speaking to him, mocking him." Sarah knew that pose. The young woman had a small smile on her face, hand on her hip.

"The Fates," Sarah breathed, suddenly realizing. "The other two, the Mother and the Crone stop circling. They are standing behind the Maiden, protecting her, enforcing her." Sarah frowned. "Isn't this supposed to be my future?"

"It is," Madame Zini told her from far away. Her voice was calm and soothing. "Just keep talking. You will see soon enough."

"I do not want to be king," Sarah spoke along with the highly flushed Goblin King, snarling the words.

The three women took a step back as one. A unanimous calculating look fell over them all. "That is not good. The Fates have been refused. They are not pleased. The Maiden reaches back. The Maiden and Crone grab her hands and they…"

Sarah trailed off. Her brow furrowed as she examined the picture. The three women faded and re-shaped. In the Fate's place was one woman, with smooth skin, grey hair, and kindly eyes. She was unclear, as if plastic was stretched over and HD screen.

"They become one woman," Sarah finally noted, unsure of how to properly describe what was happening. "One very out of focus woman with sharp, silver scissors in her hands."

The Goblin Kings eyes were wide, panicked. He looked down at his legs and leaned backwards, trying to uproot himself. "The Goblin King cannot move," Sarah noted distractedly as the Fates toyed with the silver scissors.

In a sudden flash, the Fates stabbed the king. "He was stabbed by the Fates! The Fates reach for him. Their free hand separates – young, toned, and wrinkled. They are reaching into the wound, holding it open with the scissors."

Blood gushed from the wound. Pain glazed the frozen Goblin King's eyes. Sarah shuddered as the Fates hands sunk into his chest. Their single hand moved in a blur and a flash of silver. Suddenly, the three hands jerked free from the Goblin King's chest, holding their prize.

"They have ripped out his heart," Sarah whispered.

The Goblin King's face was pale. His lips opened and closed like a fish out of water as he and Sarah watched the Fates drop his heart on the ground. Their head bent to his, hissing in his ear.

"They lean close, tell him something." Blood soaked his white shirt and pooled on the ground by his frozen feet. As suddenly as they slashed with the scissors, they vanished.

"They are gone. The Goblin King is free to move. His knees hit the ground. He is dying," Sarah observed, watching as the Goblin King reached out his long fingers to gently touch his removed organ.

Golden orbs bubbled on the heart's surface.

"Gross!" Sarah shuddered. "His heart is boiling, bubbling gold." His heart began to sink into the ground as the Goblin King lost his strength, keeping contact.

Larger bubbles popped. Slowly, so slowly it was painful, the red organ began to turn gold and was covered with earth. The ground was burnt where his blood had spilled.

Sarah shuddered. "This is horrible. I would have never imagined this happened to him."

"Focus," Madame Zini demanded from far away.

"His blood turned gold before the pool of blood and his heart sank. The ground is burnt where it was." Sarah frowned and blinked.

"Something is coming out of the burnt area. Stone?" Sarah peered, squinting her eyes.

She didn't have long to wait before the image erupted like a volcano, spilling huge chunks of stone onto the scene. The blackened area spread and the mirror jerked back, showing the huge range of the Goblin King's power.

A castle roof pushed the wounded Goblin King up, mounting him above the stone structure forming all around him. Plants sprouted. Small goblin hands clawed at the dirt, coming out of the ground. The Goblin King stood, blood coating his shirt. He swiped at the blood, revealing a perfectly healed chest.

He bellowed at the sky as his kingdom sprawled around him.

"Its... its the Labyrinth," Sarah said with a dry mouth, unable to speak the ongoing drama. "His heart is the Labyrinth."

She shook her head. Who could have guessed? She heard her friend Hoggle's voice as if from a distance. _Once you get to the center, you never come out._

She shuddered. The mirror's pearly surface started to blacken. It burned the trinket, melting the shooting star. Thick, rainbow and metal bubbles popped, boiling. Some of the excess fluid hit Sarah on the face.

"No!" Madame Zini yelled, muffled.

As if in a haze, Sarah's hand dipped in to save her crystal from the harmful heat. She didn't know when the floating bud came into focus again, or had changed from simply a crystal Sarah had picked out to being hers, but she knew she had to rescue it. Her hand dipped into the fluid and pulled her crystal free.

Sarah could finally look away from the mirror. The beautiful blue crystal started to melt in her hand, losing shape. Saddened, Sarah pressed her hands together, childishly trying to hold the bud together. A soothing warmth seeped into her hands and radiated down her body. Her hands met.

Sarah opened her hands and was shocked to see the crystal was gone. A dark blue outline of a bud showed in mirror image on each of her palms. Sarah poked at it with her finger. Her palm didn't seem to be damaged at all.

"Sarah," Madame Zini screamed from at least a hundred yards away. "Get away from there!"

It was too late. Sarah looked up into the hazy face of Madame Zini. A pearly mist was covering her eyes, morphing Madame Zini. It was as if Madame Zini had lost the space between her eyes. She was a skinny swirl of colors with one, big, stormy eye. Sarah grinned sleepily.

Sarah glanced down at the mirror. It was smooth. Her fluid-covered fingers floated to the surface as if pulled by a magnet. It wasn't until Sarah actually looked at the mirror that her panic came back.

An achingly familiar scene greeted her. It was the Labyrinth. It wasn't new, like it had freshly erupted. It wasn't like her childhood memory of well-established stone. It looked far older, full of cracks.

Her fingers descended before she could process the picture. Her world narrowed and filled with a black void. Terror griped her as she acknowledged where her future and fortune was going.

Sarah was being pulled back to the Labyrinth.

* * *

Yay! Chapter two has been improved. And had doubled in length. *sigh. Oh, well. Improved chapter three will be up on Tue (11/27).

Once again, I encourage anyone to write a review.


	3. Arrival

Sarah was not afraid of the dark. She didn't leave on a night-light or have a problem with the electricity going out – besides the lack of distraction. This was a new kind of darkness, without any light or shadows. It seemed there was no end to the blackness, and Sarah knew her eyes were wide open.

Warmth seeped up her arm as it went through the mirror, and Sarah panicked. Her other hand slapped on the table, trying to pull away from the dark, unnamed force that pulled her forward. Sarah had only a second to gasp in a deep breath before the pull accelerated. It yanked her unceremoniously over the tabletop, crumpled her elbow, and bruised her hip as it jolted against the table edge. It was the same spot she had fallen on earlier and Sarah bit back a yelp.

Soothing warmth continued to flow over her as she thumped through the mirror edge and over the table. She felt her bones stretch to accommodate the mirror's face, slicing pain through her shoulders, ribs, and hips as they slimmed. Sarah screamed. The pain was too intense to stay silent and she had no way to prepare herself for this.

She came through with an audible sucking noise and a liquid pop, and her body resettled to its normal. Her sight snapped back and Sarah saw the cracked Labyrinth speed at her in first-person view. She rolled her head down to her chest to look back. Madame Zini's horrified face hung in a rectangle of sky before the image melted away in a fierce orange of a Labyrinth sunrise.

Gold and silver flecks danced in front of Sarah's eyes as she pushed her head back to stare at the fast-approaching ground. Heat built around her body as she fell through the sky. Sarah squint her eyes, trying to see through the slick flames of brilliant yellow. It did some good. Sarah was able to see the hazy outlines of the solid walls that were going to kill her.

Adrenaline hissed through her veins. Her sight narrowed, focusing. The maze had changed more than the occasional crack. The outside walls were just as high as the top castle roof. She could because of the changed angle of her view. The inside, barely seen over the walls, wasn't just cracked. It had crumbled. As if the mortar of heavy stone had given way and hadn't been fixed in ages.

Sarah began to shake in her heat-surrounded cocoon as she soared over the middle of the goblin kingdom. Her body was forcibly shifted, skirted around the castle turret by some invisible hand. Instead of falling, she was flying straight and true like a bullet. Her yellow flames shifted to white.

She flew for far longer than she would have thought, spanning from one wall of the maze to the other. The Goblin King's Labyrinth was immense – far larger than Sarah had thought possible. She had begun to lose the happy adrenaline buzz when she saw the shadow from opposite wall of the Labyrinth. Fear hiked up heartbeat until Sarah heard it smashing against her eardrums.

Her invisible hand worked again, tilting her body toward the sky in the space of two solid thumps. It was almost too late. Sarah felt stone scrape against her stomach as she rocketed over the wall.

The hand apparently got tired of holding her up. Sarah dropped like a stone just after she cleared the Labyrinth wall. Instinctively, Sarah curled up in a small ball. Something wet and warm slid around her, sliding away from her stomach, chest, and thighs and toward her exposed areas.

Sarah hit earth with a crash that would have made the snow-storm thunder sound like a high-five. She could feel the dirt tremble, hear the crash of stone making way, and yet did not lose her hearing. After she stopped shaking and uncoiled her frozen fingers, Sarah had a feeling she knew why.

She was covered in fluid an inch thick all around. It glimmered with gold flecks and silver swirls of metal. It threw soft rainbows of light around, dancing over her skin.

Sarah blinked, shaking. She was covered in the fortune telling fluid. Before she made a conscious thought, her hand slapped against her forearm and slid down forcefully. The fluid thinned, rolling away from her hand as it slid off her arm. In seconds, it slid back into place, covering her forearm and palm again.

That was when she made the mistake of looking around her.

Sarah was in a crater. Her flight had gathered enough heat to melt the dirt and stone, seeping steam and hyper-heated minerals in an irregular disk. A thin layer of fortune teller fluid covered the dangerous areas, grouping to cool hotspots and direct steam away from her. Sarah made a mental note to ask Madame Zini where she got her supply before a barrage of questions burst through her shock.

Was this what madness looked like? Could she simply wake up? Did she have to go one some quest to pull herself out of her delusion, or was this the end of the line? Would her parents put her in a padded cell? Why was she yanked back here when she so clearly had avoided this place for so long? How does someone create a delusion this real without even wanting to?

A whimper escaped her fluid-bubble as Sarah started to walk/crawl her way out of the crater. She could reason this out. It was just a puzzle of her mind. Maybe it meant something, maybe not. All she really had to do was figure out the trick and wake up. Sarah reached the lip of the crater and got her first glimpse of the place she had landed.

The fluid coating her eyes made prisms out of the noon sun. Steam rose to paint the scene in a hazy unreality. Grass and leaves shone in glimmering emerald hues. Trees of white, brown, dark purples, and deep blue bowed overhead. Heavy fruits dangled and beautiful flowers erupted all over, splashing the scene with a childlike abandon of color.

Sarah blinked. If she was in a delusion and her mind had officially snapped, this was an excellent place to start. She had no desire to face an evil Goblin King, didn't have a time limit, and honestly felt no real urge to wake up right at this particular moment. Waking up to face a psychologist or psych ward wasn't worth it if Sarah didn't even have a good story to tell. Sarah slid back into her crater and flopped on her back. She stacked her hands beneath her head and watched rainbow-tinted steam gush into the sunrise.

A dark shadow fell over the lovely prism mist. Sarah frowned and tilted her head back. It was too soon for this part to be over, but she couldn't ignore the shadow. It was interrupting. Her eyes widened a little.

Her shadow was a toppling boulder that had appeared out of nowhere. It looked very much like one of the sixty standing stones from Orkney. The creases and budges were black, even in her prism-glinting eyes. Curiosity made her flip over and stand up, crossing over toward the stone.

Her standing stone was a man with skin as craggy as sea-tossed cliffs. His 'skin' was tinted like limestone, layers of soft, gritty-looking grey. Like a solid stone, he stood in such a way that Sarah honestly couldn't tell where his arms or legs started or ended, even as close up as she was. His head was stooped below his huge shoulders as he craned his neck to look down at her. Obsidian eyes glinted from deep-set sockets, staring at Sarah as she stared at him.

His clothing consisted of two leather harnesses, disappearing in a crease that Sarah could only assume was where his shoulder was. He shifted, pulling his arm from a cavity in his side to stretch it toward Sarah. His hand easily wrapped Sarah's torso in a firm grip, lifting her. Sarah felt the fluid bulge, rushing to the pressure areas.

Boulder Man. That was Sarah's official name for him. He opened his mouth and the smell of a cave hit Sarah's nose, making it wrinkle a little. His lips ground together in odd patterns. It took Sarah a long moment to realize that this Boulder Man was speaking, and Sarah couldn't hear a word of it.

She waited patiently while the Boulder Man rattled on, looking over his shoulder at the sunrise. He apparently got impatient and jolted her sharply. Sarah's neck snapped and her temper flared.

"I can't HEAR!" she shouted. Her throat and mouth vibrated with the force of her outburst, but Sarah couldn't hear her own voice.

The Boulder Man set her down and Sarah tugged at her ears. She clapped her hands and heard the sound of the fluid pop against one another, closely followed by feeling her hands touch. She pulled them apart and heard the liquid-goo separate.

She looked up at the Boulder Man. "Why can't I hear you?" she asked him stupidly, as if he had the answer. Even if he did, Sarah couldn't hear it. She focused on his huge lips, trying to read them.

His mouth opened and closed like a fish. His stone lips moved rapidly, too fast for Sarah to tell what he said even if he knew English. His eyes shone with what Sarah could swear were desperation and hope. When Sarah shook her head with confusion, he lifted both of his massive arms to the sky.

"Do you speak English?" she asked him. "If you do and you can slow down, I might be able to read your lips."

The words rattled on her vocal chords as she watched the giant man release his hand. They fell to his side with the grace of an earthquake, sending ripples of displaced stone skittering to the ground. Obligingly, his lips slowed down as he stared at her intently. Sarah sighed. She didn't think he was speaking English. His lips still looked like a fish.

"I can't read your lips, either. Sorry." Sarah felt sorry for the Boulder Man. Maybe he was as confused and deluded as she was. "If you can understand me, can you nod your head?"

He gave a slow nod. Sarah smiled. He reached out as if to pat her head and Sarah backed up quickly, sliding a little down the lip of the crater.

"You might squash me," Sarah nervously told him.

His head rocked back a little and Sarah heard his mountain-slide laugh, tumbling in great rolls of sound. She shook her head and hit her ear, wondering if she had too much fluid in her ears.

The space next to the Boulder Man plumed in the shape of a mini-bomb cloud. Purple dust exploded and settled, settling on the spiked hair of what Sarah immediately identified as a large pixie, only a few inches shorter than Sarah. This fierce pixie had pale, green-blue skin and was clothed, which was highly untraditional of the small pixie's Sarah had run into on the outskirts of the Labyrinth.

She had on a poorly sewn skirt and top made of animal pelts. Streaks of dirt splotched her skin even as Sarah noticed the white-purity of her tiny fangs and pointed sword that slanted across her back. Her long fingers jabbed the air as she screamed at Sarah, advancing as her temper rose.

The Boulder Man moved. His huge hand started to descend on the pixie. The lithe pixie darted out of the way, spinning in a complicated pattern that sidestepped the Boulder Man's maneuver. She scowled up at the huge man and waved her hand. Visibly forcing herself to hold back, she turned back toward Sarah. She crouched down slowly and scratched in the jewel-toned grass, her eyes never leaving Sarah's face. She gestured Sarah over and took a few steps back.

CAN YOU READ?

Sarah carefully leaned over the lip of the crater and wrote back. YES.

GIVE ME ONE GOOD REASON YOU SHOULD LIVE. The pixie woman scratched next.

Sarah wanted to laugh. What could she say? TELL ME WHY YOU LIVE, Sarah wrote.

The pixie woman stared at her blackly. Her pointy chin tilted up, assessing the Boulder Man for a moment before she scratched a reply. I LIVE TO SERVE.

Sarah thought quickly, but not fast enough. The pixie didn't wait for an answer. She was scratching in the dirt.

YOU, CREATURE, HAVE REARRANGED THE LANDS. FOR THIS YOU WILL DIE.

Before anyone could move, the pixe rose on dainty feet and bolted to Sarah. Her white sword gleamed briefly before it sank, slicing Sarah from hip to shoulder. The sword sank through the fluid, through skin and muscle. It flicked an arc of red across the sky as the pixie pulled free.

Boulder Man's arm scooped in out of the sky, blocking the sun as he scooped up the pixie woman. She struggled, legs kicking frantically as he plucked the toothpick-sized sword from her hand. Sarah fell to her knees and started to slide down the crater. Pulses of red mixed with the fortune-teller's fluid, spreading in fast-attempt of equilibrium around her body. The rainbow red fluid bulged, puckering around the slash to close around it, slowing the blood loss.

Purple smoke exploded, taking the assassin pixie with it. The Boulder Man stood with empty arms, looking down at the small creature that Sarah was.

Sarah was concerned with other matters. Sarah felt pain. She felt dizzy and weak. She had felt pain when she came in through the mirror, although she hadn't taken that into account until now.

If she felt pain, she was not in some innocent delusion anymore. According to that logic, Sarah had to think this place was real. The world of the Labyrinth was as real to her now as her own world was, full of consequences and the possibility of coming to harm and facing death. If that reasoning was sound, then it was completely possible that it was true back in her childhood.

She _had_ fallen into the pages of her favorite book when she was younger. She _had _met random people and discovered truths while battling to free her baby brother. It was real, even if everyone else denied it. She knew. Even when she avoided thinking about the Labyrinth, she knew. That is why she couldn't shake it from her thoughts and dreams.

It was a comforting thought for facing death at least twice in a matter of minutes.


	4. Inevitable Encounter

Sarah was fast losing blood. She groaned a little, wondering what had possessed her to go and amuse herself during a snow day. She could have continued on with her life. She could have gotten her degree, a job, an apartment, and lived. But no. She had to let curiosity get the better of her and go to Madame Zini's. Now she was trapped with a crazy pixie woman and a boulder man for company.

The pixie woman vanished with a flash of light, unable to move in the Boulder's grasp. The Boulder man came closer and crouched down to her level. He reached out a hand and Sarah didn't even bother to move. He had helped her before with the pixie woman and she had already warned him about the stuff coating her.

His hand gripped her arm and the two of them vanished in an achingly familiar sensation. It was the same feeling she had when the Goblin King first took her to his Labyrinth: the tightening feeling when the place around them slid away, the settling when they came to their destination. Sarah found herself in the grip of the Boulder man when she came to, staring straight into the eyes of the Goblin King.

His hands were clasped behind his back, staring out of a window in the castle. He spun around, wafting tufts of hair in a spiky cloud. Enhanced eyes widened as he took the two of them in. His face blanched white for a moment. Boulder man let go of her arm and stretched it out, towards the Goblin King. It was clearly an appealing gesture.

Sarah crumpled to her knees. Her sight was narrowing, blackening at the edges. She saw the Goblin King's face set into a mask, unreadable as the metal sculpture she once had owned. His mismatched eyes had locked on hers in the first moment and he had yet to look away. He was talking to the Boulder man, gesturing elegantly with his hands as he kept staring at her. Taking it as a contest of wills, Sarah stared back.

Boulder man's huge hand came into the picture to cuff the Goblin King on the shoulder. The Goblin King stumbled slightly and grimaced, hand rubbing his arm. He flicked his hand and the Boulder disappeared abruptly. Sarah's sight was starting to narrow further and she brought her hand up to her shoulder, pressing slightly to keep herself alert.

Sarah watched his long legs stride over to her, coming too close, too quickly. She scrambled and stood on wavering legs. There was no way she would face the man who took a baby on the frantic whim of a young girl sitting down. At least, not when he was too close to actually reach out and restrain her. She swayed and settled her feet.

The Goblin King didn't say a word. He reached out with a gloved hand. Sarah flinched away, almost falling in the process. The Goblin King didn't move his hand and smirked at her, his brown and blue eye dancing in dark amusement. He carefully mouthed words to her. Sarah squinted, trying desperately to focus.

I. Will. Not. Harm. You.

Sarah didn't believe him, but she froze, giving him the benefit of the doubt. He gently brought his hand towards her again and pinched the fluid, drawing it out in a thin line before letting it go. It snapped back at her and rippled. A look of interest tightened his features.

When. You. Are. Better. Precious. You. Should. Tell. Me. The. Tale. Of. Where. You. Stole. Traveling. Fluid.

Sarah stared at him. "I never stole anything," she vibrated thickly. She was losing focus. Even if she couldn't hear it, she could feel the change.

One golden brown eyebrow arched.

The. Good. News. Is. I. Can. Help. You. He mouthed, not questioning her honor for the moment.

"And the bad news?" Sarah finally slurred, digging her finger into the wound and widening her tunneling vision momentarily.

The Goblin King grinned, showing teeth. You. May. Not. Be. The. Same. After. I. Am. Done.

"Thank you," Sarah vibrated tiredly. Her mind was too foggy to come up with anything more interesting to say. She thought he would ask for her soul, or Toby, in exchange for helping her. She had a feeling she did not have much a choice, anyway. It was either except the Goblin King's help or die on the flagstones of his castle.

He waited. Sarah stared. His eyes narrowed slightly.

So. Be. It.

He started to tug at his glove. His eyes started to glow a little, swirling gold flecks in both his brown and blue eye. By the time the glove was fully off of his hand, the air was filled with a vortex of soft gold. He brought his arm up and flexed his palm up, towards her.

Sarah saw the outline of a golden circle surrounding a deep scar running the length of his palm. She noticed the fluid around her heated and absorbed some of the golden glow pouring off the Goblin King, making an impression that she was using sparkling gel. The golden sparks were hot, hotter than the crystal that melted in her own palms what seemed like so long ago.

A fresh lick of heat blistered a little too hot as the Goblin King sank his hand through the fluid to touch her forehead. Sarah melted into her subconscious gratefully. A scene of an all too familiar ball came into focus. But the perspective was different. This time, she was experiencing the memory of the Goblin King's, watching her in the warped view of a glass crystal.

He had trapped her. Finally. He had that Hogwash creature betray her as she betrayed Toby, and was prepared to present her with a blank-check dream much like he would offer Toby when the girl's time was up. Their dream would give the Labyrinth new fuel to defend against the next ill-wisher. To incorporate it in the Labyrinth, he would have to be present in whatever dream-world the girl came up with. Since the ball seemed harmless enough, he decided to attend and gain another insight into the dreams of mankind.

He found himself in the ball room crowded with public in hideous masks. But she did not protect herself with a mask like she had given to the others. Even as he mocked her, sliding from one place to another in a cat game she could never win, she refused to stop looking for him. Purposefully leaving herself vulnerable in the sea of masked faces, she searched for him frantically. His protective instincts finally won out over his desire to tease the precious young ill-wisher. He had relented. He took her in his arms for a dance.

It was a mistake. It was the first time he had found himself with a real smile in ages. She was an amusing challenge and sparked his Labyrinth to life in ways he had not seen in a while. Creatures and voices of the Labyrinth were championing her – the one who had wished away a defenseless babe. It was senseless. It was yet another interesting discrepancy between his heart and his mind.

Her wide eyes sucked him in. Hazel flecks rounded, focused on his face. She was not angry or defensive. For the first time both of them were silently enjoying a moment. He felt as if he were on edge, wrapped up in her dream world despite himself instead of looking for weaknesses like he should.

Then she ripped from his arms, struggling frantically as if he was evil incarnate. His smile disappeared. What had he done? Did she not believe in her own dream? Was he not the prince charming she was wishing for? He let her go, unable to be the villain after the raw moment between them.

That, too, was a mistake. She had picked up a chair in a fit of violence and destroyed the intricate spell he had crafted for her. For them. They had both slammed back into the Labyrinth, back into the challenge, and back into their roles without a word spoken.

He stretched, moving his stiff and sore muscles on his suddenly hard throne. The ball had taken more energy than he had thought possible. Either that, or she had. His precious ill-wisher.

Hope surged. Perhaps that moment was enough for her to know that something had changed. It had been enough for him. That brief time was enough for him to confirm that the childish girl was more a danger to him and his realm than another trying to get to the center of his Labyrinth. She could also be the one who could guard the Labyrinth's gates and be its champion. She could choose to stay.

But based on her latest choices, the outcome was doubtful. Although hope flew through the Labyrinth, taking her through one of her own issues rather than a simple challenge, his mind was fixated on her failing. If she failed, she could neither destroy nor protect and all would be as it was.

Well, all would be as it was with one little addition. The babe would stay if she failed. He would not offer the babe's sister a dream without offering the babe one as well. If the precious girl failed, he could balance out her ill wish with making a place in his Labyrinth for an innocent's dream. All he had to do was to make his mind triumph over his Labyrinth heart. Then she would be sure to fail and the babe would have a piece of his protective walls to surround him.

Gold flickers swarmed over the scene, swiftly followed by darkness. Sarah had finally lost consciousness. She was no longer in control of what happened to her.

Far in the distance, the walls of the Labyrinth shivered closer together. The walls were preparing for another onslaught. An almost forgotten creature looked around, distracted from jumping for a fruit again. He heard the rocks and knew what they knew. Ludo, the hunted chimera of indistinct origins, let loose a roar despite the danger and his banishment. Those who knew the creature's ponderous speech could clearly make out his word.

"Saaaaarrrrrrraaaaaaaahhhhhhh hhhhhh!"


	5. Questions

Sarah twirled. Gentle fabric wafted, floating out in whips of light fabric. She stopped, watching as the light material slowly drifted down to touch her calves. It was the first outfit she had tried on and her favorite. It was made out of a very tough and smooth thread. When asked, Niki smiled a tight smile and called it "spider's web."

It was white, stain repellant and resilient material. The only downside was the fact that it was very sheer and very thin – which was easily rectified by the massive amounts of material that lay in layer over layer of sewn cloth. As such, the design was the most practical of the lot.

The shirt was a scalloped neckline with long, trailing sleeves that could be knotted up in a variety of ways, most of which Sarah was sure to forget. The base of the shirt was woven like a basket, layer over layer, perfectly fitted to her stomach. Layers and layers of fabric hid a pair of cargo shorts dotted with pockets that no one could see for the attached layers of fabric scarves that served as a skirt. A pair of woven boots laced up over the tops of her ankles, trailing only one, almost translucent layer of material in the wake of her feet.

If Sarah hand three adjective to describe it, she would pick feminine, practical, and stunning. Even so, the outfit itself stunned her less than the first time Niki wanted Sarah to look at herself. Sarah shuddered slightly.

Niki had directed her to the silver section of the color wheel until she stood in front of a fabric mirror. For the first time, Sarah understood what she had merely speculated about. She looked like the combination of a jeweler and a sculptors dream. She was polished to a gleam and made of perfectly fused gems. Brown, thin whips of her hair, hazel eyes of fractured stone, obsidian pupils, white clouded teeth, cream and peach skin, coral red lips. She glistened everywhere.

Her fingers clicked as her hand flew up to her mouth in shock. She was, quite easily, the scariest creature she had faced. If she was to keep this body in the real world, there was no way she would survive.

Panic, anger, confusion, doubt, more confusion, and shock worked through her system in waves. Sarah rode them out as gracefully as she could. More than once, Niki had told Sarah to "stop that grinding." Sarah had sunk her new teeth into her crystal lips and tried to chew rather than talk as she thought through her life as quietly as she could.

She was not a little girl anymore. She did not need to spew out or throw a temper tantrum. And she had learned well enough on her first trip to the Labyrinth that words, especially here, could never be taken back. And what would she say? That this was so unfair?

It was. Of course it was. She had traded this for her life before, innocent and unknowing. Wasn't that how she wished Toby away? She hadn't known what it would mean, really, if she said the words written in the red-bound Labyrinth book. She had never expected goblins to really take Toby away. It was frustration that had spoke for her, and she would not let the frustration speak for her again.

What could she say now, with the Goblin King and magic surrounding her? If she spewed her confusion, anger, panic, shock around, wouldn't it come back in some way she couldn't mean and didn't understand?

So Sarah dug her pretty new nails into her pretty new palms and chewed her lips. Niki worked in a flurry around her, throwing fabric over the curtain in a storm until Sarah was sure there was nothing else that would fit in her new kingdom except clothes, clothes, and more clothes.

Sarah had asked about payment and Niki had gestured to her clothes.

"You will give me those, of course. We don't have that fabric here. It would be the most rare and unique gift."

After that, Sarah had simply shrugged in outfit after outfit and let Niki do as Niki thought best. Besides adamantly refusing any corset or high-flaring backdrop for her head, Sarah stayed out of the Seamstress' way.

All of this was worth it when Niki tapped the floating crystal. "Done!" She announced, loudly hissing at what Niki had made clear was an offensive show of Goblin crystal power.

The Goblin King appeared at once. He didn't even blink as Niki piled up stacks of clothes, or at Sarah, attired in her spider's web outfit.

"That's all?" he murmured softly. "Surely, I had thought such rare garments would be worth more than this."

Niki waved her hand. "Sarah will come back for that. This is a start."

Sarah snapped to attention. _A start?_ What kind of place was this? How many clothes would she need? Wordless, the Goblin King offered his hand. Sarah silently took it. The scene shifted in a snap and Sarah found herself in a long table dining hall with food piled high. Chocolate and heady spices and pastas layered the air with strong scents.

"I haven't heard a single complaint from you yet, Sarah," the Goblin King told her as he pulled out a high-backed chair and spun her into the seat. "Quite an accomplishment."

Sarah held her tongue. So he liked her silent, eh? She let him fill her plate full of pasta and delicacies before saying a word. She sat there, her head down and her hands folded, chewing on her lip. Finally, the Goblin King cleared his throat.

"As my guest and the only female present, you have to take the first bite." His voice was very gentle. Sarah looked up at him and cocked her head. Her eyes narrowed slightly. A smirk came on the Goblin Kings' face. He picked up his goblet and rolled it in his hands. "What are you thinking?" He finally asked when Sarah didn't say a word.

"Why did you want me alive? What did you risk? What words convinced you to save me?" Sarah's voice trembled as the questions tumbled from her mouth.

The Goblin King gestured to the food. "Eat."

Sarah opened her mouth and the Goblin King stopped rolling his goblet. His eyes sparked. "Don't defy me," he almost snarled. "I have done everything for you and all I am asking in return is that you eat."

A heavy, ominous pause filled the space between them.

"For now," he clarified grimly.

Sarah looked at him. He was dark, dangerous, and angry. All she had to do was pick up her fork and eat pasta to discharge the situation. But standing down had never been her style. Her instincts screamed at her, forced her to move. She stood, trusting her gut, and crossed to him. Her hand reached out and plucked the goblet from his fingers. He stood abruptly, chair legs scraping the floor hard as he shoved it back.

"YOU-" he started to roar.

Sarah touched his hand, making her appeal with a physical touch as well as her barely-coherent questions. His roar was stilled, barely started, and Sarah took advantage of the silence.

"I don't understand," she told him in a rush, "I don't understand this world, or what it is that you are doing, or what you want to accomplish, or what I am, or what I am supposed to be doing, or why I am here, or anything about this place."

She dropped her hand and stepped back. His hand was still raised, as if he were carved from stone. Sarah set the goblet back in his hand and he closed his gloved hands around the delicate stem. "I am not defying you. But I need to know something about this place, about you," she gestured wildly, "from you, what is going on." She crossed back to her chair and put her hands on its back. "That is, if we are to be allies." This was almost a whisper.

"Sarah," the Goblin King started. He took a small step towards her and stopped. He flopped back in his chair and lounged, swinging his leg lazily. His gaze traced the ceiling. "Things in this world are not as they seem. You know should know that by now. There are lessons here that have to be learned by you that I cannot teach you."

"And what about explaining? Teaching? Is there no place in this world for that?" Sarah cried out. "Can't you even tell someone your intentions?"

The Goblin King peered at her. "Eat, Sarah. Sleep. Walk my Labyrinth again if you have to. But if you can't see what is right in front of you, nothing I say will do any good." He reached for the pitcher and poured an amber liquid into the goblet. "I will retire for the night." He gestured with his goblet. "Enjoy your first meal."

He turned away.

"Is this anything like the peach?" Sarah called after him. He paused briefly and then strode on, out of the hall.

Sarah sat, speared a bit of pasta and twirled. Her first taste was laced with an explosion of heady flavors. She barely kept herself form a moan of appreciation. It was absolutely delicious. The flavor immediately soured as Sarah looked after where the Goblin King had gone, mouthful half chewed.

And she had insulted the man who ordered it for her. Her palms chinked loudly as her forehead fell to her hands.


	6. The Right Questions

Sarah simply stared at him, unwilling to move the hand away from her shirt or drop Quandary, who had gone back to being a ball. "Care to explain why I would need gloves?"

The Goblin King dropped his hands and started to lightly whack the gloves on his black pants. "Quizzical must not have gotten to that part of the explanation yet. How unlike you, to not ask the right questions Sarah." He grinned, showing pointed teeth.

Quandary gripped her sleeve and started to climb toward her shoulder. It slid behind a sheet of her hair and quivered. Sarah refused to look away as the Goblin King walked past her, his eyes looking over her like a predator. He circled her before he spoke again, his tone harsh and grating.

"Such a pity." He held out the gloves again. "But you do need to put these on."

"Why?" Sarah asked him. The Goblin King's face blanked and a smug smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Quandary?" Sarah asked gently.

Its reedy voice was barely above a whisper. "You need to do what he says, Sarah."

"Are you checking with random creatures that you just met now? I preferred you before." The Goblin King announced. Sarah wanted to childishly yank the gloves from his hands. Instead she closed her eyes and clenched her fists.

"Would either of you please explain why I need gloves?" Sarah asked the general public of two.

"You need gloves because otherwise your power won't be protected, and your palms will be vulnerable." The ready voice whispered practically in her ear.

"My palms will be vulnerable," Sarah repeated slowly. "Okay, then. That makes so much sense. Thank you."

It took Quandary a few beats of time to realize that Sarah was being sarcastic. "Your power is focused on symbols on your palms," it hissed as if at an unruly child, "so you have to wear the gloves for protection. Take the gloves!"

Sarah gently took the gloves from the Goblin King and slid them on her hands. The cool fabric was soothing. She flexed her hands experimentally. "What power do I have, exactly?"

"Curious had been lapse. Perhaps I should come back later." The Goblin King observed airily as he floated toward the nearest wall. His hand touched the surface and the moss arched up, gushing between his fingers.

"Oh, and Question?" Quandary shifted through Sarah's hair to peek at the Goblin King. "Try to be through. We can't have her think this isn't fair."

He faded from sight just when Sarah started to roll her eyes. Sarah peered at the empty space where he was as Quandary rolled his way down her back, hip, and pant leg. "Tell me, how do we get out of the tower?" Sarah asked Quandary when it landed.

Quandary paused. "When we are ready, the moss will let us down." Its hands chafed its arms as if warming itself. "Well, it will let you down. It loves you."

"Huh? How can you tell?" Sarah was wide eyed as she looked down.

"It relates to your power." Its body gestured down to the ground. "You might want to sit for this. I don't know if I feel comfortable with you standing over me like that if you get angry."

"Why would I get angry?" Sarah asked tightly as she sat down.

"Well it didn't make any sense for you to get angry when I told you that you seemed dense. Either you know you are dense or you don't. How do I know how you are going to react?" Quandary wondered testily, its reedy voice wheezing. Its arms lowered, showing its eyes.

Sarah sighed. "Would you explain my power? And while you're at it, can you explain what you meant by a kingdom?"

Quandary sighed and settled. Hands spun, and Quandary's linked top arms held steady over its churning layered surface as Quandary glided over the unmoving moss surface. "You have a dark blue flower on your palms."

"A rose," Sarah supplied. Quandary's beady eyes narrowed.

"What's a rose?" It asked. An arm popped free to wave at her in dismissal. "Never mind. I will ask you later. I don't want the Goblin King to come back before I have told you as much as I can."

Sarah, however, was distracted. "It's a flower that by any other name smells just as sweet."

Quandary folded its arms and rolled back on its proverbial heels. "ANY object by another name is still the same thing. It's only the associations of the object based on the different name or language that changes." It waved its arm again and paced. "That's not the point. The point is that your power is directly aligned with organic material: flowers, to be exact. A rose is your focal object. Any form of power you work, if it is complex and/or strong enough, will look like a blue flower rose. Otherwise it will just be an element of the sign. For example petals, the stalk, thorns, etc." Quandary stood and twirled a little. "When my Keeper works small magic, black letters swirl in the air. Her serious magic looks like a book."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "Would this book happen to be a specific color?"

Quandary dipped. Sarah guessed it was a version of a nod. "Yes, it is! Her color is red. Red leather bound books with golden titles." Before Sarah could make any heated accusations about one Labyrinth book, bound in red leather, currently sitting in her college dorm room, Quandary moved on. "Just so you know, gold is a color of power that tends to show up in most of the highly skilled magic workers or the most powerful. Silver is in the advanced magic workers spells, and bronze accents are in educated magic workers. If there is no blending of gold, silver, or bronze, then the magic or spells are shoddy and will fall apart.

It paused. "Now each spell caster has a specific focus. The Goblin King's focus is on dreams and the mind. He can heal from the inside out as easily as destroy." Beady eyes looked seriously at her. "Nightmares, after all, are just the darker side of a dream. His focal object is a crystal, which is carved on his palms just like your rose is on your palms, and a book on my Keeper's."

"Does the color of the object of focus have to do with anything?"

Quandary gave her a round of applause. "Good question!" It settled back down. "Now, each color represents a set of ideas. If the color matches the object, then the spell or power is enhanced in a particular way. Red means curiosity and knowledge. It is a wide awake color that can override other tones of color. Clear is the wide events of interpretation, the blending of the unknown. Blue is the color that has long represented emotions and desires." It waved its arms wildly. "There are lots of other colors and shades, all with different meanings based on our culture here, but there are too many to bog you down with right now. We will just start with those three."

"So, I can be able to write out the desires of a heart like your Keeper of Books? Will I be able to manipulate them like the Goblin King?"

Quandary swayed from side to side. No, Sarah translated silently. "I do not know exactly how your power will manifest, but it is safe to say that it will be different than the Goblin King or the Keeper." It paused and twined its hands together to make a beard. A hand reached out and stroked the beard. "That is, of course, if you can tone down your own emotions."

Sarah lay back on the moss. A light pillow cushioned her head and it reached up to cuddle around her. She comforted herself with the idea that she could squash Quandary if it really pissed her off. "How do I do that?"

Quandary rolled, cart-wheeling on its numerous hands. "Have you ever tried to meditate?"

"Once, a teacher tried to get us to meditate. It didn't work very well."

"Let's try." Quandary told her, sounding eager. "Are you relaxed?"

Sarah snorted. "As relaxed as I can be talking to a body made of hands and trapped in the Goblin King's castle with a body made of something other than flesh and blood."

Quandary rustled nosily. "Let's try a different approach. Take a deep breath. What can you smell?"

"I can smell the moss."

"Explain it," Quandary ordered.

Sarah shifted her nose closer to the moss. It puffed up and Sarah sneezed as some got up her nose. She giggled. "It smells eager to please and energetic. It smells a little dark, like rich earth. It smells fresh as rain, and exotic, because I have never smelled something quite like it before."

"What does it feel like?" Quandary asked gently.

"Soft and cozy, like a favorite pair of slippers. It is springy and supportive, though, and not exactly smooth." The moss beneath her wove tighter. "And when it does get smooth, it isn't as comfortable as before." The moss relaxed and hugged Sarah even deeper.

"Tell me about this place," Quandary soothed, "Tell me about the five senses: touch, taste, sounds, images, and smells."

Sarah rattled on, getting sleepier as she went into excessive detail. Quandary let her prattle on until Sarah ran out of words and just sat, sunk deep into the comfortable cushion.

"Now, try to reach around you." Quandary spoke gently, sounding like reeds blowing in the wind, "What emotions do you sense?"

"You are excited and tired at the same time, you have been keeping watch over me for days and are used to shutting down." Sarah told Quandary simply. "And you are shocked," Sarah noticed, "just now. You didn't think I would get this far, didn't think it was possible. And you are afraid. Afraid of the Goblin King, of everything you don't know, of disappointing your mistress, and too curious to stop yourself from venturing out-"

"Stop!" Quandary ordered sharply. "Snap out of it, Sarah!"

Sarah opened her eyes. "That is more than just emotions."

Quandary was rubbing its arms. "No. It seems you are able to read a little into the reasons behind the emotions as well." It hugged itself, elbows jutting out in weird angles. "Maybe that has to do with Goblin King's interference? The spell? I will look more into that when I get home.

"On with the lesson. If you focus on your five senses rather than your thoughts and emotions, I think it's safe to say you can hone on emotions and thoughts around you. That being said, if you remove your gloves, your ability will increase. At the same time, if you are wounded when you are throwing all your energy into your power, you can be killed or injured much easier. Ageless is not immortality. Be careful to remember that little fact. Since you do not have a protection or aggressive ability, you are even more vulnerable than some."

Sarah blinked and sat up. The moss made a chair for her. "But roses have thorns."

Quandary gave an approximation of a shrug. "At the very least, you can make others uncomfortable by knowing. Also, you seem to have the protection of one determined Goblin King and the curiosity of the Chimera King, the one currently guarding your kingdom from the pixies." Quandary settled, its knotted robe form taking shape. "You just got here, and you have many thorns at your disposal. I can safely assume that you will gain more."

"Are you going to tell me about the kingdom, too?" Sarah asked tiredly.

"Your kingdom. And no, actually. I don't know anything about it other than it shoved the rest of the kingdoms around when it came to be." Sarah raised an eyebrow in silent question. Quandary paced.

"As kingdoms need more room or less room, they shrink or widen as needed. Your kingdom came without warning as soon as you streaked through the sky like a falling star. You landed and that area became its center. The entire continent's kingdoms were rocked as the land made room for you and your kingdom."

Quandary held up two of its hands. "I cannot tell you much more right now. I will be able to later, when your power begins to manifest or I visit your kingdom. I can be an informant for you if you accept me as your envoy from the Keeper's kingdom."

"I think I will take you up on that," Sarah murmured. "But let's get down from here. I would like very much to leave." The moss immediately fell in front of Sarah, making a gaping hole. It rippled made steps that spiraled down and out of sight.

"One last thing," Sarah asked, standing. "What exactly am I made out of?"

Quandary looked up at her. "I don't know."

Seeing Sarah needed an answer and the moss had started to close the path of escape, Quandary tried again. "Hardened fluid, flesh, blood, and crystal that reacted with the initial ingredients that I am pretty sure the Fate's altered."

"What happens if the crystal part shatters?" Sarah asked, thinking of the Goblin King's spells and the ballroom she had broken years before.

Quandary rolled and started to climb up her pant leg. "I think that is why flowers are fragile and beautiful, don't you?"

Sarah shuddered and made her way carefully down mossy steps.


	7. Allies?

Sarah's decent down the moss steps was graceful and silent. Her new limbs were balanced in a way that she had not felt with flesh and blood, and far more solid. Moss curled around her feet with each step down. Eventually, Sarah reached the end of the steps.

Sarah stepped forward casually and flinched as her delicate new foot grated against stone. It clicked harshly and Sarah jerked her foot back, sure it might be cracked. She sat on the moss steps and checked her thankfully un-shattered toes.

Quandary lifted itself from its hiding place in her front pocket. "I guess walking is going to be a bit difficult."

Sarah stood and stepped back an extra step. "You think?"

Moss curled around her feet and Sarah rocked back on her heels, feeling the moss shift to support and cushion her every move. "But it is too bad. I would be so sure of being safe and sound if only I had moss boots, tightly woven on the outside and soft inside. I would wear them everywhere." She sighed and stood. "But then, I suppose that would be asking too much."

So eager to please, the moss immediately curled up around her feet. Quandary leaned over to watch as the moss quickly made itself into emerald colored boots.

"That was easy." Sarah grinned down at it. Quandary rotated its arms to look up at her accusingly.

"By the way," Sarah spoke as she started through the Goblin King's castle, "I have been wondering if you were a male or female."

Quandary stiffened. It crawled up her shirt and eased itself down on her shoulder stiffly. "How rude. I am neither. Not every living creature has to be one or the other."

Before Sarah could reply, the voice of the Goblin King echoed behind them. "Sarah. Where do you think you were going?"

Sarah whirled. One hand clutched at her shirt while the other landed on her hip. "Do you ever just walk?"

He gestured down his skin-tight pants. "Does it look like I need the exercise?"

Sarah looked him over. Slowly. She was not the little girl who could be as easily intimidated. She started at his high, black boots, over his too-tight grey pants and the snow white shirt he had chosen. She almost smiled. "Maybe it would do you a little good."

He didn't seem to know what to make of that. He stared at her, almost shocked. Sarah let out a light chuckle. It felt too good to tease him. His vanity could be taken down a few pegs. He was not all powerful. Not before, and not now.

Sarah flipped around and started walking. She heard silence for a moment before rapid heel strikes announced that the Goblin King was behind her. Walking.

"Do rulers where you come from walk around in stained, ripped clothes and moss boots?"

Sarah shrugged. "If they have nothing else."

"Are their hosts so rude as to leave them without any other clothes?" His hand reached out and touched her lightly on the shoulder. It was enough to make her pause.

"It depends on the host relationship. Even rulers can be made uncomfortable." Sarah shrugged out from under his hand and her eyes narrowed. "To be honest, I am not sure whether we are allies or not."

The Goblin King's eyes glittered oddly. "Saving your precious life means so little to you, Sarah?"

Her hands folded over her chest. "I suppose that depends on what it is being saved for-"

"Jareth." The Goblin King interrupted. "If we were to be allies, you should know my first name."

Sarah nodded cautiously. "Jareth," she said softly. The Goblin King nodded abruptly and turned away. He held out a black gloved hand.

"If you would allow me, I would escort you to a fitting room and have you properly attired."

Sarah unfolded her arms but made no move to take his hand. "Properly attired for what?"

The Goblin King's expression was shuttered when he looked back at her. "Do you have so little faith? Come."

Sarah lifted her free hand and set it gently in his. His fingers flexed around hers in an immediate response. They moved forward in a silent agreement.

"As many protective layers that are in the Labyrinth, and as few that can cross into the kingdom to reach my castle and request an audience with me, there will be a time when you must meet the nobles. Since you are in my care, it is my job to see to it that you do not shame yourself."

Sarah squared her shoulders. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

The Goblin King squeezed her hand. Hard. "This is no simple Labyrinth, Sarah. There are no rules to these games. It wouldn't be _fair_," he almost sneered the word.

"You are different," Sarah murmured. His high cheekbones hit the light as he turned to look down at her for a brief moment. His tight lips relaxed and he loosened his grip.

"I am as I always was, more and less. Just as you are, Sarah. We have both changed. And I cannot say I am sorry for it."

Quandary had rolled up her shirt unnoticed by either one of them. It gripped her neck on the opposite side of the Goblin King, making Sarah jump. She had forgotten the little creature was there. The grip and comfort Sarah got from the little creature inspired her.

It wisely kept silent as Sarah made her calculated move. She twined her white, lace-gloved hands with his dark leather. The Goblin King sucked in a small breath and his fingers flexed, shifted. He embraced her fingers rather than caged them against his hand.

"Let's go." Sarah sounded far braver than she felt.


	8. New Wardrobe

The Goblin King had a much smoother transition than she had experienced recently. The Goblin King opened a door. Sarah stepped through first and the Goblin King followed. He closed the door behind them and Sarah found herself surrounded in an onslaught of colors that made her eyes water.

It was a freak rainbow, splashing out in every direction, every color, and seemingly every shade. Sarah spun slowly and realized she was not in a rainbow after all. She was in the very center of a color wheel made of fabrics. They were stark contrasts near her feet and merged, shade after shade until colors blended, far in the distance, so indistinctly that she wasn't sure until half way through that the color had changed from blues to greens.

The Goblin King's legs were braced and his shoulders were tense. Sarah could feel it through his hand. She peeked at him through the corners of her eyes. He looked completely at home, slouching slightly as he looked around, slightly bored.

"Seamstress," he called out casually, "I brought you a project."

Fabrics in the silver-blue section rustled and two eyes appeared. They were a startling green, somewhere near the color of a lime. Those eyes came closer and a silver-blue veil was pulled back. Ebony skin glinted over white teeth as the Seamstress smiled with razor sharp teeth. Blue gloves were pulled off and Sarah could see her hands and fingers. Her long, branchlike fingers stuck out like the legs of a Daddy Long Leg spider.

The Seamstress crossed into dark grey, and shimmered, looking resplendent in her silver-blue. Her body was as thin as a ruler, wrapped in a complicated woven pattern. She stepped forward on three legs while her three upper arms dangled as she assessed the two of them with gleeful eyes. Her presence reminded Sarah abruptly of Jack from "Nightmare Before Christmas." She was sharply dressed, thin as a whip, and knew she was sought after.

"A jewel." The Seamstress hissed breathily, unwinding her headscarf. A sheath of dark hair spilled from her head. It coated her tiny shoulders. "Is she yours… or her own?"

Sarah pulled her hand from the Goblin King's. The Goblin King dropped his hand and pulled free a crystal. He toyed with it as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"Hahaha," the Seamstress chuckled. "I see. Frustratingly fierce, no?"

"She is to be made presentable. A future monarch should not be unpolished, don't you think?" And with that last parting remark, the Goblin King was gone.

"A monarch?" The Seamstress unwound her wrappings slowly, her methodical weaving pattern almost hypnotic. Ebony skin and thin fibers were revealed as more of her limbs were freed. She walked and sheets of blue silver shimmered behind her in glistening trails. "A monarch's wardrobe worth of a project. How exciting."

Scissors came out from nowhere and snipped the extra lengths of fabric. It landed and curled in on itself in pools of blue. The folded fabric rolled across the shades of color until it disappeared in its own shade. Still, the Seamstress had yet to look away from Sarah.

As the spider woman got closer, Sarah noticed thin yellow markings dot up and down each of her three arms and legs. It wasn't until the Seamstress towered over her that Sarah noticed that the yellow marks were numbers. They marched up and down in straight, equidistant splashes of color. Just as the Seamstress opened her smile wide, displaying her frightening rows of teeth, a crystal flashed into being right above Sarah's head.

The Seamstress froze. Sarah watched as the Seamstress' smile got smaller and far more manageable. The crystal spun lazily and danced, circling to an unheard waltz.

"It won't leave," Quandary piped up from the curtain of Sarah's hair. The Seamstress' eyes swung over and settled on Quandary, its curled arms nestled in the curve between Sarah's neck and shoulder. Lime green eyes opened and closed slowly as the Seamstress stood back up to her full height. She glanced between the floating crystal and Quandary.

"First thing's first," The Seamstress tells them, "my name is Niki." Slits of her nostrils flare. "The second thing is you both need a bath." Her long finger's gesture in the somewhere-distance between the reds and flaming oranges, "And the way you do that is over there. I will have a couple of ideas written out by the time you get back."

Without a word, Sarah turned to go where she was bid. The crystal floated ahead of her, leading the way. Quandary jumped down from its perch and settled itself in the center of the color wheel. Sarah turned back to look at it, brow raised.

"Seeker's and water don't mix well," Quandary told her in its reedy voice. "I should be here when you get back. Quandary looked at Niki who was rapidly disappearing in the distance of colors, "If I'm not, then I would suggest you run."

Sarah nodded. "Try not to die before I get back."

The crystal led her deeper into the shades of orange and red until Sarah could almost feel heat radiating from the colors themselves. The heat allowed Sarah's bunched muscles to relax. Clear beads of water collected and rolled down Sarah's body as she marched on.

She was trapped. The thought hit her with staggering surety. She absorbed the bit of information before perusing it down its natural path as anger broiled through her system.

What had she done to deserve this? She wanted to amuse herself, briefly, by visiting Madame Zini. She had been attacked for _crash landing_ in a strange land by a freaking pixie with an attitude problem and an apparent need for violence. She had talked to a little ball of arms about how her life was changed instead of a proper therapist. She had been thrust right back into what she had thought was a dedicated delusion of her youth, had to make nice with a Goblin King who had kidnapped her brother a few years back, and was currently walking down a pathway of colors to take a steam bath from a woman who probably wanted to eat her.

She should be in an insane asylum. If this wasn't so real, if Sarah was missing one of her senses or emotions, if she hadn't felt pain, then she could distance herself at least a little. Instead, she was in a mental and emotional whirlwind that she simply didn't let herself process and focused on the questions of the reality she was in rather than the other issues a rational human being would be asking or feeling. Like panic.

_Escape_, a part of her whispered. _Once you find a way out, it will be the same as it was before. Nothing came back the first time; nothing will come back this time, either._

Been there, done that. What would she go back to? Now, with the new version of the ballroom scene, with the way she felt with the Goblin King around her, with this new evidence of him watching out for her…

She would drive herself deeper and deeper into obsession of this place. This adventure was more fuel for thought than she had before, when she had spent only 13 hours in the Labyrinth.

Sarah wiped at her forehead and was vaguely surprised when her skin slid apart like liquid soap. She couldn't even properly wipe off her forehead. She looked down at her hardened, glistening hand and closed her eyes. Her feet stopped moving and the crystal danced back down toward her.

Even with the Labyrinth, she was the only thing that changed. Was there any guarantee that her body would be the same as it was? When Sarah had woken up before, after the Labyrinth adventure for Toby, she was sore and hungry enough to down three bowls of cereal. If she followed that logic, Sarah would wake up as a woman frozen crystal. She might have her proof that she wasn't crazy but she would also have far more issues than a simple visit to a therapist.

Even if she woke up the same as before, there was no telling how much time had passed in her world verse this one. 13 hours had seemed like minutes. What would weeks or months translate to? Was it Jareth's powers or his defeat that put her back where she wanted to be?

Jareth. Sarah opened her eyes and kept walking. The air thickened with steam as Sarah rolled the name over her mind. He was supposedly her ally now. He had saved her from certain death and even now watched out for her safety. He may have another angle, he may not be the ally he pretended to be, but there was something wrong with his Labyrinth. There was something different about him, no matter what kind of twist he put on his words.

He was a puzzle. He survived by ripping out his own heart. Was he trapped inside or a ruler of his Labyrinth? She had no delusions that he cared for her. Even in the ball scene, all he felt was a prick of protective instincts. Not love, not even caring. To him, she was a curiosity, a surprise, and a puzzle different from the puzzles of people he had solved before.

He must had saved her for something else, something other when he offered her a lifetime of being his conquest. _I ask for so little. Just let me rule you, and you can have everything that you want. Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave._

Sarah shook her head, hard. His words were a manipulative move of a King who was losing his own game. It had to be. It just had to.

Spider-black fingers wrapped around her arm, cutting off her thoughts.

"If you wander much further," Niki whisper-hissed gently, "I am pretty sure you will shatter."

Startled out of her train of thoughts, Sarah was easily led back to the center of the color wheel. Quandary looked up and let out a low whistle of approval. Sarah looked down and noticed her clothes were more vivid than she had ever seen them. They looked new and freshly ironed, even shredded as they were. The blue jeans seemed like a faded piece of artwork. Her knitted shirt was a shell pink, as pale as the veins on a white seashell. The moss boots looked hydrated, a deep shade of emerald green.

Her skin was iridescent. She looked like a stone of freshly polished peach and pink cream. Light played with the depths of her skin. Her nails were as smooth as the rest of her, short ovals of disgusting perfection.

Niki sat. Her torso was a little shorter than Sarah's shoulders and curled so that the Seamstress was eye level with her jeans and torn shirt.

"I have never seen that kind of fabric before," Niki hissed with a hint of need. "Is this the clothing of your people?"

Sarah shrugged. "One of many."

Niki nodded and flared her fingers out. "I have kept this style with the new designs I had in mind. Yours is a practical kind of culture, no? Warm? Mobile?" Niki shook her head lightly. "I think I have done your body justice in a way your culture did not. Here. Try these on."

Sarah blinked. "But you didn't take a single measurement or have enough time to do anything."

Niki stood and rummaged behind her. She snapped a white swirl of cloth free. "Two things, future monarch. One: People will measure you from the moment you walk into their sights. I had your measure when you first landed with the Goblin King. Two:" she spun around, swirls of the lightest whites and the darkest jewel tones draped over her arm, "Time here is probably different than you know. You were gone long enough, and that is all that really matters. Try these on and we will see if the Goblin King will not be mesmerized by you the very next time he looks at you." She glanced at the spinning crystal. "I dare him."

Sarah glanced around. "Where-?"

A surge of a multi-colored curtain flared up, surrounding her. Quandary squeaked as he was unceremoniously picked up and rolled down the outer portion of the makeshift room. Its purpose was obvious: a dressing room for one. Clothes were laid over the circular top.

"Try one on and come out to see the new you." Niki encouraged her in what Sarah no longer considered a sinister hiss.

Sarah gritted her teeth and reached for the first outfit.


	9. First Labyrinth Meal

Sarah twirled. Gentle fabric wafted, floating out in whips of light fabric. She stopped, watching as the light material slowly drifted down to touch her calves. It was the first outfit she had tried on and her favorite. It was made out of a very tough and smooth thread. When asked, Niki smiled a tight smile and called it "spider's web."

It was white, stain repellant and resilient material. The only downside was the fact that it was very sheer and very thin – which was easily rectified by the massive amounts of material that lay in layer over layer of sewn cloth. As such, the design was the most practical of the lot.

The shirt was a scalloped neckline with long, trailing sleeves that could be knotted up in a variety of ways, most of which Sarah was sure to forget. The base of the shirt was woven like a basket, layer over layer, perfectly fitted to her stomach. Layers and layers of fabric hid a pair of cargo shorts dotted with pockets that no one could see for the attached layers of fabric scarves that served as a skirt. A pair of woven boots laced up over the tops of her ankles, trailing only one, almost translucent layer of material in the wake of her feet.

If Sarah hand three adjective to describe it, she would pick feminine, practical, and stunning. Even so, the outfit itself stunned her less than the first time Niki wanted Sarah to look at herself. Sarah shuddered slightly.

Niki had directed her to the silver section of the color wheel until she stood in front of a fabric mirror. For the first time, Sarah understood what she had merely speculated about. She looked like the combination of a jeweler and a sculptors dream. She was polished to a gleam and made of perfectly fused gems. Brown, thin whips of her hair, hazel eyes of fractured stone, obsidian pupils, white clouded teeth, cream and peach skin, coral red lips. She glistened everywhere.

Her fingers clicked as her hand flew up to her mouth in shock. She was, quite easily, the scariest creature she had faced. If she was to keep this body in the real world, there was no way she would survive.

Panic, anger, confusion, doubt, more confusion, and shock worked through her system in waves. Sarah rode them out as gracefully as she could. More than once, Niki had told Sarah to "stop that grinding." Sarah had sunk her new teeth into her crystal lips and tried to chew rather than talk as she thought through her life as quietly as she could.

She was not a little girl anymore. She did not need to spew out or throw a temper tantrum. And she had learned well enough on her first trip to the Labyrinth that words, especially here, could never be taken back. And what would she say? That this was so unfair?

It was. Of course it was. She had traded this for her life before, innocent and unknowing. Wasn't that how she wished Toby away? She hadn't known what it would mean, really, if she said the words written in the red-bound Labyrinth book. She had never expected goblins to really take Toby away. It was frustration that had spoke for her, and she would not let the frustration speak for her again.

What could she say now, with the Goblin King and magic surrounding her? If she spewed her confusion, anger, panic, shock around, wouldn't it come back in some way she couldn't mean and didn't understand?

So Sarah dug her pretty new nails into her pretty new palms and chewed her lips. Niki worked in a flurry around her, throwing fabric over the curtain in a storm until Sarah was sure there was nothing else that would fit in her new kingdom except clothes, clothes, and more clothes.

Sarah had asked about payment and Niki had gestured to her clothes.

"You will give me those, of course. We don't have that fabric here. It would be the most rare and unique gift."

After that, Sarah had simply shrugged in outfit after outfit and let Niki do as Niki thought best. Besides adamantly refusing any corset or high-flaring backdrop for her head, Sarah stayed out of the Seamstress' way.

All of this was worth it when Niki tapped the floating crystal. "Done!" She announced, loudly hissing at what Niki had made clear was an offensive show of Goblin crystal power.

The Goblin King appeared at once. He didn't even blink as Niki piled up stacks of clothes, or at Sarah, attired in her spider's web outfit.

"That's all?" he murmured softly. "Surely, I had thought such rare garments would be worth more than this."

Niki waved her hand. "Sarah will come back for that. This is a start."

Sarah snapped to attention. _A start?_ What kind of place was this? How many clothes would she need? Wordless, the Goblin King offered his hand. Sarah silently took it. The scene shifted in a snap and Sarah found herself in a long table dining hall with food piled high. Chocolate and heady spices and pastas layered the air with strong scents.

"I haven't heard a single complaint from you yet, Sarah," the Goblin King told her as he pulled out a high-backed chair and spun her into the seat. "Quite an accomplishment."

Sarah held her tongue. So he liked her silent, eh? She let him fill her plate full of pasta and delicacies before saying a word. She sat there, her head down and her hands folded, chewing on her lip. Finally, the Goblin King cleared his throat.

"As my guest and the only female present, you have to take the first bite." His voice was very gentle. Sarah looked up at him and cocked her head. Her eyes narrowed slightly. A smirk came on the Goblin Kings' face. He picked up his goblet and rolled it in his hands. "What are you thinking?" He finally asked when Sarah didn't say a word.

"Why did you want me alive? What did you risk? What words convinced you to save me?" Sarah's voice trembled as the questions tumbled from her mouth.

The Goblin King gestured to the food. "Eat."

Sarah opened her mouth and the Goblin King stopped rolling his goblet. His eyes sparked. "Don't defy me," he almost snarled. "I have done everything for you and all I am asking in return is that you eat."

A heavy, ominous pause filled the space between them.

"For now," he clarified grimly.

Sarah looked at him. He was dark, dangerous, and angry. All she had to do was pick up her fork and eat pasta to discharge the situation. But standing down had never been her style. Her instincts screamed at her, forced her to move. She stood, trusting her gut, and crossed to him. Her hand reached out and plucked the goblet from his fingers. He stood abruptly, chair legs scraping the floor hard as he shoved it back.

"YOU-" he started to roar.

Sarah touched his hand, making her appeal with a physical touch as well as her barely-coherent questions. His roar was stilled, barely started, and Sarah took advantage of the silence.

"I don't understand," she told him in a rush, "I don't understand this world, or what it is that you are doing, or what you want to accomplish, or what I am, or what I am supposed to be doing, or why I am here, or anything about this place."

She dropped her hand and stepped back. His hand was still raised, as if he were carved from stone. Sarah set the goblet back in his hand and he closed his gloved hands around the delicate stem. "I am not defying you. But I need to know something about this place, about you," she gestured wildly, "from you, what is going on." She crossed back to her chair and put her hands on its back. "That is, if we are to be allies." This was almost a whisper.

"Sarah," the Goblin King started. He took a small step towards her and stopped. He flopped back in his chair and lounged, swinging his leg lazily. His gaze traced the ceiling. "Things in this world are not as they seem. You know should know that by now. There are lessons here that have to be learned by you that I cannot teach you."

"And what about explaining? Teaching? Is there no place in this world for that?" Sarah cried out. "Can't you even tell someone your intentions?"

The Goblin King peered at her. "Eat, Sarah. Sleep. Walk my Labyrinth again if you have to. But if you can't see what is right in front of you, nothing I say will do any good." He reached for the pitcher and poured an amber liquid into the goblet. "I will retire for the night." He gestured with his goblet. "Enjoy your first meal."

He turned away.

"Is this anything like the peach?" Sarah called after him. He paused briefly and then strode on, out of the hall.

Sarah sat, speared a bit of pasta and twirled. Her first taste was laced with an explosion of heady flavors. She barely kept herself form a moan of appreciation. It was absolutely delicious. The flavor immediately soured as Sarah looked after where the Goblin King had gone, mouthful half chewed.

And she had insulted the man who ordered it for her. Her palms chinked loudly as her forehead fell to her hands.


	10. Home is Where the Heart is

Sarah woke early the next morning. Sunlight streamed into the castle, slightly blinding her. She had not taken advantage of the cotton bed sheets and closed the curtains around her bed. She had been so tired, so exhausted from turning over possibilities and events that she had gone to bed fully clothed. After dinner, after the questions with the Goblin King, she was no nearer to an answer than before. So she decided to take his advice.

She would wander around the Labyrinth a little while. Maybe she could find out whatever the Goblin King thought was so obvious. She sat up and looked around the room that goblins – en mass, mind you – had shown to her.

Her clothes had been hung up in a heavy wardrobe carved with Labyrinth maze designs. She touched the handle and selected a clean outfit. This one was a dark burgundy and just as practical as the spider web outfit she had on. Her top was a woven masterpiece without sleeves with pants so long and so voluminous it looked like she was wearing an elegant skirt. She tied up her hair with a burgundy scarf, positive her newly stiff hair would stay in place, and made her way outside.

Goblins paused to stare at her a moment before going back to their games. Sarah found that she had wandered into the throne room, a familiar enough sight. She pushed her way outside the keep and walked straight. No one tried to stop her. In fact, it seemed as though she was invisible to the towns' goblins. Some barreled right into her, shook their shaggy heads, and kept going. Others stumbled out of her way in the last moment as if drunk.

Sarah walked and walked. Her thoughts plagued her, weighed her down as heavily as ever. She breathed in relief when she saw the first Labyrinth wall. She had wandered a little farther than she had thought, almost all the way to the Labyrinth's outer rim. She had not passed fireys, knight errants, confusing voices, or obulettes along the way.

Sarah stilled. She hated not knowing anything. At least before, she had the Labyrinth book. She knew its plot backwards and forwards, knew the lines and the ending. She had a goal. Now, she didn't.

She stared at the unmoving stone wall. A dangerous thought raced across her mind without her being able to stop it. _Why couldn't she know?_ Sarah's heart rate picked up as she looked at the stone with wide eyes.

Sarah breathed and pulled off a lace glove. She focused on the things around her: the dull roar of the goblins going about their day, the smell of the Goblin City, clucking of chickens, the way the wind felt on her new skin, the dull clink of her hair fibers barely discernible background noise. Her hand landed on the Labyrinth to feel the cold stone beneath her hand.

Instead, she felt a heartbeat. It was a dull thump of a heart, barely resonating in her crystal hand. Sarah fell deeper into the sensations, timed her heartbeat with the Labyrinth wall. Her breath slowed into shallow pants.

The Labyrinth – The Goblin King's heart – lived? Did it feel as well? Sarah's eyes were riveted on the bit of stone, traced the bits of grated material which were the outer layer to his heart. She tucked her glove in her pant belt and tugged off her other glove with her teeth before putting it with its kin. Both of her hands met the surface of the wall.

The heartbeat was dull and deep. Slow, thick pulses sent small ripples through the walls, rolling outward down the length she was standing at from left to right. Sarah closed her eyes. Emotions leaked into her conscious mind: sorrow, heartbreak, confusion, doubt, self-hate, tentative hope.

Sarah narrowed into those emotions without a thought. She had sensed reasons with Quandary's emotions. Maybe she could…

_She's gone_. The voice resonated in the Labyrinth. It was a dark, timeless voice of tragedy. _Everything bleeds, nothing is the same. She is gone. I am a fool._

_Who?_ Sarah pushed her question at the Labyrinth wall, wanting to know at least one piece of a puzzle. She had to know something about this place. _Who?_ She thought furiously, trying to manipulate the reasons into an answer she could understand.

_Sarah?_ The Labyrinth stilled. The heartbeat stuttered.

"It's me," Sarah told the Labyrinth aloud. "Who has hurt you?"

_Sarah?_ The Labyrinth repeated, slowly. The heartbeat picked up. _You. Are. Back._In the far distance, stone grated and the wind snapped into a frenzy. It beat at her fake-skirt, whipping it around her ankles.

"Who hurt you?" Sarah asked again, feeling the emotions of the Labyrinth dance beyond her comprehension.

"What do you think you are doing?" The Goblin King demanded. Sarah whirled around, her concentration gone.

"I-" Sarah started, blinking as quickly as she could. The Goblin King's gaze rested on her un-gloved hands. He was dressed in pure black, the color giving a grim look to his accusing eyes.

"You would use your powers on my kingdom?" The Goblin King wondered aloud. Sarah shoved her hands back at her dress and tried to put on her gloves as quickly as possible. Her hands shook. "You would go that far?" he asked. His voice was like flint.

Sarah felt an answering spark. Her spine snapped straight as a wash of anger licked down her body. "_You_told me to go look in the Labyrinth," she reminded him grimly. Her newly gloved finger jabbed him in the chest. "_You_." She walked towards him, stalking. Surprisingly, he took a step back though his face was a marble mask of betrayal. "You refused to explain a single thing to me. If anything is right in front of my face, if you are being so _obvious_ in your intentions as you claim, then I should know, shouldn't I?" Sarah was starting to screech. She hated it. She couldn't stop it as her voice shrilled up an octave. "_I should know, shouldn't I?_"

"One would think," the Goblin King snarled, barely polite.

Sarah stared at him. She felt the fire leak out of her eyes. Suddenly, she was very, very tired. Anger didn't sustain her like it did when she was younger. Back then, it was a childish spurt of being unfairly treated and trickled through her senses continuously. Now, it blazed hotter and lasted far shorter. Her hand touched her forehead where a headache had started. She hadn't eaten this morning and had walked for miles without realizing it.

"I want to go home," Sarah moaned softly. Wind swept around her, circling. Blue flakes of something whipped into the air, shredding with the slices of Labyrinth air. Sarah didn't have a chance to make out what they were.

"Sarah, wait-" the Goblin King asked, his betrayal-frozen face crumbling. His eyes widened and his gloved hand stretched out.

Her body was squeezed like a vice. Breath blew out of her in a rush. Sarah tried to gasp for air and failed. Her lips moved, creaking with pressure. Her body bowed. The pressure released. She landed heavily on her skirts, the padding protecting her has she skidded on the dirt. She blinked her eyes.

She was in the middle of her crater. The first place she had been. The apparent center of her kingdom

The Boulder man leaned over the lip of the crater. A grin stretched over his face. "You are alive." His voice boomed, not a question. It was an announcement. "Glad to see it."

He reached down and thumped her skirts with his huge hand. Sarah reeled and almost fell over. He caught her with a loud splinter of crystal sound. Both of them froze for a moment before he gave her an apologetic look.

"I am Garth, King of Chimera's." He bowed, his boulder leg extended awkwardly. Soft leather creaked in protest to the gesture. "Ludo has told me much. He will welcome you soon."

In the far distance, Ludo bellowed. "Ssssaaaaraaahhh hhhhhhooooommmmee!" Sound crashed as Ludo apparently barreled through tree trunks to get to her faster.

"Welcome home, Sarah, Queen of Hearts," the Chimera King announced kindly.

Sarah stared. _What?_


	11. Mirror, Mirror

Readers of fanfiction: Thank you for sending reviews! Feel free to keep sending critiques and comments. I really appreciate them!

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"And what of my home?" Sarah demanded, wrung out. "What of my family, friends, life? I wanted to go _home_, not _here_."

The Chimera King leaned back over the crater, his face concerned. He wrapped a massive had around her arm and lifted. Sarah moved through the air like a doll, almost weightless. He set her down carefully on the lip of the crater and took a step back, as though afraid she would detonate. Or shatter.

"You have tried to go home," the Chimera King boomed.

Sarah nodded and bit her lip slightly. She stopped as her lip grated against her teeth. "Just before I landed here."

The Chimera King took a few more steps back. The sound of broken trees came closer. "Then you have your answer."

Ludo had made his way through the various plant-life Sarah hadn't bothered to care about yet and launched himself at her. His relatively small hands compared to the Chimera King lifted her as gently and as quickly as possible. His thick, reddish-brown fur surrounded her.

"Sarah home!" Ludo bellowed again, right in her ear.

"Yes," Sarah told him numbly, her arms winding around his large torso. "I am here."

He swung her legs around. A white blob flew off her ankle and Quandary landed with an amazingly loud oomph.

"Take it easy!" Quandary snapped in its reedy voice. "You might have damaged something."

Ludo cuddled Sarah closer and moved his horned head, suddenly on alert. He searched around them, slowly spinning in a circle. The Chimera King pointed kindly in the direction that Quandary landed. Ludo set Sarah down and ambled over, crouching to look at Quandary.

"Sowrry," Ludo rumbled. "You hurt?"

Quandary made a show of checking each of his arms for damage. Sarah smiled a little at its antics, still too numb to take any real enjoyment out of the moment. Quandary sighed.

"This time," Quandary told him. "You have to be careful!"

Ludo hung his head. The Chimera King walked over and set a huge hand on Ludo's shoulder. A hollow thump echoed where his palm met Ludo's furred back. "Ludo is the most gentle and careful chimera I have the privilege to know."

Ludo's ears perked up and a truly odd grin stretched his mouth. His head twisted and he looked back at Sarah as his furry chest swelled with pride.

In that instant, the Chimera King became Garth to Sarah. She could respect and admire a king who so willingly put his subjects at ease. She looked down a moment to collect herself. What was wrong with her? Ludo, her long-lost friend was here, and she couldn't even give him a proper hello!

"What a place!" Quandary crooned, spinning in an excited frenzy of arm-ball cartwheels. "books, books, books as far as the eye can see!"

Garth jumped slightly and looked around, Ludo's ears swiveled, and Sarah shook her head. Her land was a replica of the Garden of Eden. Ludo had rampaged his way through a sea of wafting trees, fragrant flowers, and emerald grass.

"Quandary," Sarah called gently, "don't you see a garden around you?"

Quandary stopped spinning and stared. It clasped its hands as it paced, looking up and around him.

"No," it said slowly, "I see shelves and shelves of books."

"Ludo," Sarah looked at him as he stood and stared around him, "what do you see?"

"Rock garden," Ludo said.

Sarah cocked her head and looked at Garth. She paused, not sure how to address him and let him know how differently she thought of him. "May I call you Garth, or would that be rude?"

Garth grinned himself, a happy, wide stretch of excitement. "It would please me if you did call me Garth," he replied formally and tried to bow again.

"Garth, what do you see around you?" Sarah asked carefully.

A shadow crossed his face and he rose from his bow. Sarah immediately wanted to put him at ease. "You don't have to tell," she told him. He bowed again, far more casually than he did before.

"Thank you," he told her and stared around him like he was a little lost. "Your realm is a little… different than the other kingdoms around here." He looked back down at her. "They don't change from person to person."

Sarah nodded and looked around. "I wouldn't know." She felt her numb mind begin to churn, focusing on the present issues rather than the implications of being stuck someplace where she could never reach her family or Toby again. Not even for a momentary, jewel-filled visit. "I want to try something," she told them. "Can you be quiet for a moment?"

Ludo turned and looked at her. "Sarah… okay?"

Sarah glanced up at her furred friend. "I am fine. You didn't hurt me."

A frown plucked his moth as Quandary cart-wheeled around Sarah's feet. "I can be silent. No problem. "

"I will look after Ludo for now if there is something you must do," the Chimera King boomed. Sarah nodded.

"I am just going to try and settle this shifting kingdom. Hold on."

Sarah tuned them out as she focused, closing her eyes. She concentrated on the senses, on her own emotions and mind. She relaxed herself, one limb at a time, and shut off the constant stream of her thoughts. Carefully, she opened her eyes.

Her realm was barren. It was a sheet of white as far as the eye could see. The only thing in her realm was the far distant colors of the surrounding kingdoms and a pedestal. It rose up in what Sarah could only assume was the center and so familiar that a true ripple of shock flew through her system.

In the very center of her blank white realm was a mirror. Not just any mirror, she realized. It was her mirror. The one she had picked out at Madame Zini's shop. It was held up by a tangle of a rose bush, curled around each side of the frame and exploded in every direction around it. Sarah walked in a trance toward the mirror. A single step took her right in front of the shimmering surface.

"Greetings, my Queen, fairest of the lands." the mirror fizzled like a burning Fourth of July sparkler. Flakes of golden stars erupted on the top as it spoke. "To you I pledge my oath to please, if I can."

"Mirror, mirror, encased in rose," Sarah spoke without a thought, "what is the purpose of this land you chose?"

"The land chose you, long ago, when you bit into a peach that kept you bound so. By hunger you committed, and by betrayal you were hanged. To this land you took, and to this land a part of you must remain. Energy removed is not energy gained, it must be the same, or the system is not contained."

"Were not my dreams enough and my thoughts my toll?" Sarah asked angrily, thinking of so many wasted days on the Labyrinth in her mind and the nightmares that kept her adrenaline pumping through the nights, "this story line," Sarah shook her head. No, that wasn't quite right. She started again, "this land has taken far more from me than what I took in its control."

"Not so," the mirror fizzled, "you do not understand. What was given to you was more than a bite of a dream under your command. You were given power over a king, though he knew it not. The fates were working even then, though neither of you understood naught."

Sarah laughed dryly. "The Goblin King has a land such as this, a land of the heart is not a land of a pleasurable wish."

"The Goblin King refused an offer of the Ladies," the mirror hissed, "the Fates control this realm as surely as the underworld is Hades'. You are the question in their tapestry design, to you goes the favor and the gift of every rhyme. The reasons of the hearts are yours to explore while the Goblin King is trapped in his, as punishment evermore."

Sarah rocked back on her feet and waited.

"My Queen can choose to see what her visitors have conjured," it invited next, "all you have to do is ask and see what your blank pallet has been colored."

Sarah froze, suddenly understanding. She had been given a mirror of power and a land that changed based on the person that came to it. She could see their heart's desire, their land they made, their fears, their hopes. She could see anything and everything. In exchange, she had been forced to give up everything she had. According to the mirror, the kingdom of the Labyrinth and the kingdom of her own world were separate again.

What was even more interesting was that her heart had recreated the Garden of Eden. Was this her tree of knowledge, of life and death? Sarah stared, considering all that had happened. Could she leave, or was this yet another trick? Was this all that it appeared to be?

Sarah didn't think so. Like everything and anything else, this too had a price. The question was, would Sarah be willing to pay it?


	12. The Apple

Sarah sank down, her back to the mirror and the roses. She sat on the white pedestal and let her legs press against the surface. It was cold and firm. Since no one watched her and she had no one to impress, Sarah took her relaxation a little further. She lay down and pressed her forehead against the cold. It helped.

"Do you have to speak in rhyme?" Sarah asked the mirror almost lazily.

"No, I was just matching your expectations," the mirror crackled at her.

"Can you tell me what I have to pay for this in the future?" Sarah pressed her head closer to the floor.

"I cannot. No one except future knows all of its paths."

"Fine." What else was there to say? She could not go back, she did not know what she would face. In short, she was in exactly the same predicament with a different setting.

Sarah carefully gathered all of her thoughts of her family, of the future she had imagined, of the problems she had faced for money and mental strain, and of her most immediate regrets and hoped. She rolled them together until they looked like a tangled ball of strings. She imagined a shelf in the back of her mind and shoved them all back. A heavy metal door slammed and lights switched off.

Sarah was not a complete fool. She knew she could not forget entirely. But she could try.

Sarah sat up and brushed off her red creation.

"You will do anything I ask, correct?" She demanded of the mirror as she squinted her eyes at the distant edge of her colorless kingdom.

"Correct," the mirror replied.

"Is there any way to transfer all of what you know to me, quickly?" Sarah turned back to the mirror, her hands clasped behind her back. If it could work in science fiction, there was no reason not to ask.

"There are several ways, my queen." Sarah waited in silence until the mirror began to explain. "In this land, all must be in balance. If you take the amount of energy it would have taken to learn all of these things and compress them, depending on how much of a compression, it would take its toll on your body – as in extract the mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual toll it would have taken originally."

"But that does not take into account magic or power that I have apparently paid for in full." Sarah pointed out.

"That is another pathway – one which would have an unknown effect. Since magic is so variable and energy pathways so different, I cannot predict what it would do."

Sarah flexed her hands. She sighed and took a few steps. So far, the unknown factor had worked out well for her. If she looked at recent events positively, she had banked on the unknown. It had helped prove she was not crazy, that magic did exist, that she had a kingdom, had a body that would not age, and was full of power. Untapped power that was as foreign to her as politics of sea creatures. What would she truly risk if she did not know even what she had?

On the other hand, she knew firsthand the toll learning had on the mind and body. The sleepless nights, the tests, the social impact of not knowing what could be a delicate topic, appropriate manners, or systems of government or speaking. Even if she was to trust the Goblin King, who seemed to be looking out for her for the moment, it would take far too long to know what she had to know.

"Is all of the effects of learning through magic negative?" Sarah realized she paced back in forth in front of the mirror. She paused and looked at the mirror.

"No. There are some cases of positive effects." The mirror told her.

Sarah paced. She had a choice of a definite negative or a possible positive. Either that or trust the Goblin King and Garth explicitly. Sarah did not shudder though she wanted to. Forced dependence gave power; much like her stepmother took over her life. Sarah shoved the thought to the back of her mind where it belonged.

"What would I have to do to pay the price with magic?" Sarah floundered as she turned her feeble options over in her mind.

"The easiest way, as you have experienced, is through ingestion. It can affect you from the inside out, rather than breaking through the outside barriers and working its way in." The mirror told her dryly.

"The peach," Sarah murmured.

"Exactly," the mirror confirmed.

Sarah waffled. She looked over nothing, her gaze drifting. Independent cost. To know cost. Dependence cost. Time cost.

"Give me what I have to eat." Sarah demanded.

The roses wrapped around the mirror shook. A petal from each of the blooming blue roses fell in front of the mirror. The electric blue contrasted so sharply with the white that Sarah could clearly see the delicate veins of the petals as they fell.

"Hold out your hand," the mirror ordered as its sparked voice filled with energy and force.

Sarah held out her right hand, palm up. The edges of the mirror warmed, grew hot enough that Sarah could feel its heat as it radiated out. A slice of fire, bright white like lightning, streaked through the air towards her palm. It hit and Sarah felt like a live wire, conducting enough electricity to power a city block.

Power crackled her hair out into a straight globe around her head. Her left arm and legs locked straight and her waist bowed backward. When the streak of lightning stopped, Sarah's right arm started to drop like a lead weight. She felt her body shudder, barely able to contain the amount of power or energy the mirror had shot at her.

It was then that the blue petals moved. A mini whirlwind spun them around her right arm. The hand lifted without Sarah's help. The cool blue petals that represented Sarah's power brushed against her arm. The places the delicate organic petals touched felt relief for a few milliseconds. One by one, the petals drifted above her still outstretched palm.

The petals lined up exactly in the measurements imprinted on her palm. The crystal rose was an exact duplicate of the rose floating above it. The image squished like play dough as the barely formed rose lost shape until Sarah held a poorly shaped sphere n her hand.

A sharp boom echoed as the orb touched her skin. Like an explosion, Sarah felt every shred of power and energy suck into the object in her hand. It felled her. Sarah landed ungracefully on her knees and caught herself with her left hand.

Sarah blinked as the residue of the magic surge cleared. Color leaked from her clothes, from her skin and hair, and from the mirror and roses. It was not without a little panic that Sarah noted her realm was now completely white. The color tones surged towards the orb and were sucked greedily into the depths of the odd mass. A point shoved out of its top and it wasn't until color leaked out of the sphere skin that Sarah recognized what she held.

Sarah let out a soundless laugh as she held an apple in her colorless hand. Its beautiful red surface glinted as it fell though her hand and rolled away from her. The brown wood of the stem jutted out defiantly as if to dare Sarah.

She drifted. She didn't even have enough to keep herself near the ground. For the space of a single moment, Sarah was reminded of Snow White. Snow White's mother was right. There was something extremely aesthetically pleasing about red contrasting with white.

Sarah dove and opened her clear mouth. Her jaw unhinged and Sarah bit. She swallowed the apple, stem and all, with one bite. A deep, settled feeling swept over her as Sarah dropped back towards the ground, gracefully landing on her feet. Color slammed back into place.

Sarah's dark lashed fluttered as images swamped over her. Information, both subtle and defined, forcibly made their way into Sarah's synapses. Connections were made, others were broken. Pathways Sarah had never needed before flared to life. She was forced to use more of her brain to compensate with the overload. The imaginary metal door Sarah had slammed was blasted open. Her mind worked to categorize the information, processed it based off of what she knew, crafted new categories based off of the way the information was presented – en masse.

There was no clock to say how long Sarah stood there, nor did the mirror mark time as it anxiously reflected the woman who made its existence necessary. Neither noted the roses as the thorns and stems grew to cover the entirety of the realm, covering every white space with a network of growth.

Roses budded and opened, scenting the realm with an exceptional soft smell. It saturated the air until every breath held the perfume of the blue roses. Thorns became spikes, thick and deadly points of defense. Stems became thick ropes, coiled and twined chaos that twisted amongst itself and around each other. If Sarah could see or if the mirror would widen its reflection, both would notice that there would not be any white space left except under layers and layers of the tremendous growth.

But as with everything, there was a limit. Sarah stood, caressed by the tender touch of petals and the pointed love from thorns. Her eyes opened and she _knew_.

The mirror reflected Sarah's opening eyes with a sense of relief. It wasn't until Sarah began to look around her that the mirror saw with a sudden chill the only change that had been made to the Queen of Hearts.

Her right eye was no longer a hazel and green jewel, but was an electric blue replica of the rose petals in her realm.

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Sorry this chapter took so long. I had a thousand ideas and each one of them would lead the characters in completely different directions. It was a lot harder than usual to eliminate the competing ideas. I hope this one turns out better than the others.

As always, please feel free to leave reviews!


	13. A Stitch in Time

"My Queen?" the mirror crackled uncertainly. "Are you well?"

"As well as I can be," Sarah answered politely as she smoothed the lines of her creation back into place. She blinked her heavy lashes slowly as she glanced around. "It seems the price of the knowledge would is the chaotic growth of my roses."

Her roses, the expression of her power. Like the mirror, she did not know exactly what this meant. Every magic was different and hers, born from another world, was full of even more variables than normal. Sarah lifted her hand to the nearest thorn. It sank back into the vine as Sarah pushed her against the sharp point. She turned and walked closer to the mirror and vines curled out of her way. A clear globe of white ground served as her walkway. It was no red carpet, but at least she was not clawed apart by her own thorns. Yet.

Sarah stepped up to the pedestal that held her mirror up and turned her back to the shimmering surface. She would not say it, but her new Harlequin eyes scared her. It merely helped confirm the onslaught of new data she had been forced to take in and the old memories she now saw in an entirely different light. Now what she wanted was an illusion of retreat.

She felt her garden of Eden fall over the land. The air changed, heavier and hotter. Tropical birds sang in beautiful bursts of harmonized melodies and the hefty weight of smells spiced the air. Sunlight struck the top of her head like a hand that comforted and warmed her. Hardly out of place with her jewel-toned skin and dramatic clothes, Sarah stepped out among the tropical plants. Her thoughts turned inward as she directed her queenly feet in the direction of her guests.

Her mind felt like a roll of index cards with a professional secretary. She could access the types of trees, flowers, and fauna that dotted her realm but only after the correct files were pulled out. It took time. It took energy. She reviewed what her new data base knew about the Chimera culture. The informational meet and greet took far longer than she thought possible. She began to dig and scratch, mining out what she would need for the next encounter of two monarchs rather than the uncouth girl she had presented.

Eventually, Sarah touched a heavy branch of a purple veined plant with dark blue leaves. It curled up to serve as an arch as Sarah rejoined the group in the clearing she had left. Ludo waited with a puppy-like anticipation, only allowing Sarah enough time to walk free of the comparatively smaller hole before he stood and crossed over to her side.

"Sarah fix the problem?" Ludo asked as he ducked his horned head a little too close to her face for comfort.

Sarah's sight unfocused for a moment as she tried to focus on his too-close face. Instead, his face vanished and Sarah saw a beautiful Feng Shui garden with rocks that were as different as the scents that overpowered Sarah's Eden. As Sarah sharply refocused her attention, Ludo's face came back into view.

"Yes, I did. Thank you, Ludo." Sarah told him and tugged his hair in the Chimera way of affection shown to his particular breed.

Ludo closed his massive eyes and let loose a surprised chirping noise of pleasure. Sarah giggled a little and stepped back from him. She knew a description of the sound, but it was different experience entirely to hear it. She turned to the Chimera King who waited patiently behind her.

"Honorable Chimera King," she started, "I apologize for making you wait for me. My only excuse was that I was never brought up with a kingdom. I did not know how unquestionably rude that was. May I offer you a beverage or food to make your stay here comfortable?"

The boulder of a king shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he resettled. "You were not gone that long, Queen of Hearts."

Sarah's index cards flipped until she understood. He did not want any food from her kingdom, since they have not been acquainted and food was a way to work spells unless under a declared peace meeting or unless after a long relationship of friendship. Even with the information, she could make mistakes. Sarah stored that away. She also understood the question that the Chimera King could not ask.

By the time she answered, an uncomfortable amount of time had passed. "I went through what I would call a crash course on monarchy. It is amazing the amounts of help magic can be – and the amount of dangers it can be presented if used improperly."

"That is true." Garth boomed.

Sarah glanced around. "I do not see Quandary. Did he leave?"

"Yes," Garth told her simply. He opened a massive hand and gestured to where Ludo had been. "As did Ludo. They seem to enjoy your kingdom immensely."

Sarah gave a slight bob of a curtsy, a sign of Chimera appreciation and respect. "I hope you enjoy it as well."

Garth nodded gravely to show he appreciated and understood the gesture. His eyes creased up in the corners. "Your 'crash course' was very effective. I am impressed."

"Thank you, Chimera King," Sarah murmured. She glanced up at him. "I never said thank you for defending me against the pixie scout, saving my life, and looking after my realm as I recovered."

Her curtsy was awkward and unpracticed. She wobbled as her balance faltered, but kept herself from a face plant as she painted the floor with her foot. Her head bowed low and her back bowed. The ancient style was a direct way to gauge the amount of thanks another monarch had for another.

Sarah's forehead grazed the ground. She stayed there until the Chimera King reached a hand down and lifted her off her feet. Literally.

"I did not do it for your thanks," Garth told her bluntly. He had just released her from the immense debt of one monarch to another. Either that, or he did not trust her to understand the implications of the gesture Sarah had spent a large part of her walk researching. In either case, a weight was lifted off of Sarah's shoulders.

"I know you did it for your charge," Sarah told him as she lifted her eyes, sandwiched between the massive blocks of his hands. A look of admiration flashed through his system. Sarah could feel it press against her at the skin to skin contact. "Nonetheless, I give my thanks and that of my realm. If there is something I can do in return, please do not feel afraid to ask."

Not many would stare into his eyes as he held them in such a vulnerable state. The Chimera King lowered her, determined to continue to test her mettle. He set her down a little above the ground and dropped her. Sarah's burgundy creation fluttered a little as Sarah gracefully caught her balance. Sarah did not touch her outfit to rearrange the abused fabric back in place. She did not need to touch him to know his approval grew. Marginal amounts, true. But growth was growth.

"I will remember," Gath announced. "But I know that my charge has a troubled mind, especially of late."

Sarah sighed and nodded. "I am afraid I unintentionally declared war with the Goblin King several times during my stay."

"Unintentionally declared war," Garth echoed. Disbelief colored his words. He shook his head and little crumbs of dirt fell free to pepper the ground. "Perhaps you might want to go and intentionally remove those declarations, Queen of Hearts."

Sarah shifted her hands awkwardly. "I will. But while we are on the topic of unintentional offenses, I meant nothing but respect when I requested I call you by your first name. I now understand that it is the person who requests to be addressed by their first name. I am sorry."

"No offense taken." A smile cracked at the corner of his lips. "Now about that declaration of war…"

Sarah smiled. "You may call me Sarah, if you would like, Honored Chimera King."

His wide smile was the last thing Sarah saw as blue rose petals fluttered from her fingers and swirled gently around her. She vanished and appeared on the outside of the Labyrinth. Even if she had planned to come here and clear up issues with the Goblin King, her debt to the Chimera King beat at her. She would repair whatever she could and perhaps, for once, keep her mouth under strict control.


	14. Apologizing

Sarah stood in front of the Labyrinth, its stony walls rising overhead ominously to cast her in shadow. Her power shot through her hands and expanded like twin umbrellas, protecting her and feeling the overwhelming surge of power she could now sense in the walls. The faint heartbeat Sarah had heard before sounded like huge timpani drums, pounding beats that shook the ground.

Sarah did not need to close her eyes to know the walls were impenetrable. The stones were drawn up, tight and protective against any intruders. Waves of confusion, mistrust, and directionless anger swept over and around her umbrellas like streams of rain. With the force of the pain the Labyrinth and Sarah's new ability to not only sense it, but feel it, sent her system into overload.

For a few breaths, Sarah was the Labyrinth. Her body took the punishment of ancient grief and sadness, inevitability and betrayal. Tears streamed down her face and she threw back her head to choke on the sobs that the Labyrinth, in its stone dwelling, could not make. She did not know how long she stood there, crying in the shadow, before the Labyrinth took notice.

It was as if the stones of the wall found her presence startling. Shuffling like a stack of dominoes, the outer wall jumped and fell back into place. The overwhelming feelings, as contrary as they were honest, thrust back into the deepest parts of the Labyrinth. It gave Sarah's thin, power umbrellas time to flutter open and protect her again.

Sarah took rapid breaths of air as her sobs softened. Her shaking barely kept her from peering wearily at the stones barring her entrance to beg her pardon from the Goblin King. Slowly, she took her time gathering her thoughts, rummaging through her new set of knowledge, and picking the next action. Her mind was settling on the javelin throw.

Eyes closing, Sarah began going through the steps of the offensive move. Sorrow, resolve, apology, confusion, and understanding tangled around the thin line of power she sent through her core. Breathing heavily, Sarah threw her hands out at the Labyrinth.

Okay, so her javelin throw was more like a softball when it hit the short distance between herself and the Labyrinth, but she was sure none of the tightly woven emotions came free. The Labyrinth caught her soft tossed ball. Her painfully novice attempt went rolling through the maze as the Labyrinth thought out whether to give her entrance or not.

Without a single stone moving, an entrance appeared in front of her. Visually, there was no change. Just as before, the Labyrinth outer wall was indistinguishable from the wall behind it. Sarah took a step forward, feeling the wall close in behind her back to trap her inside. She took a moment to glance at the place she had come from to confirm what she already knew. The solid mass of stone cut off her only possible escape route.

_You know, I wasn't planning on leaving_, Sarah sent out gently.

The Labyrinth's voice almost flattened Sarah when it replied angrily, _You weren't planning on leaving last time, either, were you?_

_You – I mean Jareth – made me feel defensive and angry. What was I supposed to do? Just take it? _Sarah shot back at the Labyrinth as she walked down the corridor.

Sarah didn't even realize she was moving past the little blue worm who was calling out at her, telling her she was going the wrong way. She was arranging her feet's path to the Labyrinth's pull, tugging her along by the strength of the voice.

_I am like a newborn baby compared to you, _Sarah kept explaining as she shut her eyes. She didn't need to see to know where she was going. She just had to follow. _I have around 20 years of life in one world, in one place of less than 50 square miles, with only a few trips around the same continent. Last time I was here, I didn't even understand myself or the consequences of my actions. I was even younger than I am now. Can you really expect me to understand what isn't spelled out for me? Did you really expect for me to understand anything besides the fact that you took my baby brother, simply because I was frustrated?_

The Labyrinth was still, listening to Sarah's tirade. _You appear much older,_ was its only response.

_Yes, well, where I come from, we only live 100 years or less. For you, that would be an equivalent to around a day. I am YOUNG, I tell you. _

_I can see that. _

_Don't sound so condescending! _Sarah's shouting mental voice exploded angrily.

_Did you realize, _the Labyrinth told her conversationally, _you are the first to try and solve the pathways of my heart with your eyes closed? _

Sarah couldn't help smiling a little at the Labyrinth's bemusement. _Well, you are easier to hear this way. Besides, don't you like the fact that I am not even trying to get away and letting you lead me wherever you would like? Right now, you could lead me around in circles and I wouldn't know the difference. _

_I would never lead you around in an endless circle, precious. _The Labyrinth's whispering answer ruffled strands of Sarah's hair.

_But Jareth would, _was Sarah's answering observation.

_He has no heart, _the Labyrinth sent back seriously, _as you well know. I am glad you refused us earlier, though I was sorry to see you go. _

_What would have happened? _Sarah found herself asking gingerly as she leapt across something distasteful under her feet. She was softly landing on autopilot as she continued her query. _I mean, if I would have said yes to Jareth last time? As long as we are being so honest?_

The Labyrinth's sigh was gusty, catching the undersides of Sarah's power umbrellas. Sarah barely had enough time to strengthen them as caught and held the emotion-filled wind. Her eyes opened to catch a tangled network of slimy bushes flopping like octopus legs before she shut her eyes again. She was let down almost gently from her air born flight.

_He would have given you your dreams, trapped you inside of them. Your house, world, and love would be centered in one of his crystals. You would have been forced to love and fear him – the only person who could keep the dream alive. He would have been forced to pour his power into pleasing you. That way, he could love at a distance, safe. He would never be vulnerable. You would never be harmed. _

_But neither of us would grow or really love, _Sarah finished off the Labyrinth's thought. _Neither of us would live. Not truly. _

_Yes, _the Labyrinth replied. _Even though I tried to keep you from it, helped you shatter the ballroom crystal and memory spell, I could not keep him from offering. _

_Memory spell?_ Sarah's mind cast back. _What memory spell?_

_After the ball, you should have never remembered yourself. The contest should have stopped there. Since Jareth was done with you and confused with you as well, he turned you over to me. I placed you in the once place you could remember – the land of your forgotten toys: your room. I surrounded you with the familiar with the hope you could think well of at least a part of us. _The Labyrinth was very quiet.

_And I refused you both again at the end. _Sarah shook her head.

_No. You never heard me. You were answering what Jareth was offering, not his heart. Although I spent a lot of energy protecting and… _The Labyrinth trailed off silent.

_And? _Sarah prompted.

_Open your eyes, _the Labyrinth's voice was suddenly demanding.

Sarah's eyes shot open. Under her feet, flowers and grass sprang free. Surrounding her was a garden withered and dead. Sarah took and experimental step and found herself watching in astonishment as the dead plants rose up to meet her, flaring into life. Her foot bent the heads of yellow dandelions. She found herself crouching near a flower bed and staring as colors shot free, as if showing off.

_And falling in love with you. _The Labyrinth softly answered. _Although, I shouldn't have to say it. _It amended, frustration leaking through its every word.

Sarah fell backward, her bottom hitting the dirt, eyes wide. Her reply was as faint as she felt. _Did you stop falling in love with me?_

The Labyrinth didn't answer. The garden flared like a match was struck. Beautiful flowers shot up like springs, grasses and trees shot straight to the sky. A single blue rose unfurled the slowest, in the center of the garden.

_Not even Jareth could ignore me or overpower me. By the way, _The Labyrinth continued, slightly smug, _he hasn't been able to ignore me since you left. _

_Since I left… _Sarah's voice repeated dumbly. _You love me? Why? _

_Why not? _The Labyrinth retorted.

_But you were- I mean you are- _Sarah didn't have the words. She formed a really bad javelin shot and sat as it plopped in the ground, full of the grief and confusion and the heartache that she just now recognized. _Even now, I can feel a little bit of it._

The Labyrinth gave her the impression of casual attention, as if it wasn't really focusing on her. _Love, real love is not just my sunshine and your roses, now is it? It needs rain and grief, too. It needs vulnerability. _

As if to the side, the Labyrinth muttered, _I thought we just went over this. So young. _

_I know, _Sarah lay down, her back to the dirt. Her thoughts spun for a moment before she sat up rapidly and began to furiously beat at her clothes.

_What is wrong? _The Labyrinth asked strangely.

_If Jareth can't ignore you – then how much longer until he arrives? _Sarah bit out. _Why does he always catch me when I look ragged?_

_You forgot the seamstress already? I can assure you, he has not. _The Labyrinth laughed. _He should be here-_

With a bang that seemed to implode, the Goblin King arrived.

_-any time. As you see, he had to get properly dressed to meet you. _

The Goblin King wore gold threaded through his hair and clothes, making him sparkle and shine. Swirls of color peaked through the tight fitting pants and boots, giving off the brief impression of a sparkling rainbow.

"I was not expecting you," Jareth told her, his eyes glinting strangely.

_He was just hoping since the moment you left that he could have forced you to stay, _the Labyrinth supplied sarcastically. _Although, I don't blame him. You do tend to run around a lot. _

"I was sent by a mutual friend, the Chimera King. I-" Sarah looked around the garden and found she could not meet the Goblin King's gaze. "Well, I owe you an apology. I did not mean to declare war, ever, with you or your kingdom. I simply did not know. As I was explaining to your Labyrinth, I am young."

As she had done with the Chimera King, Sarah sank into a low and complicated curtsey. Unlike the Chimera King, Jareth left her there. She thought he would count the seconds to tell how much she meant it, so she stayed low. Waiting.

_What are we supposed to do? _The Labyrinth asked her, panicked. _He doesn't know what to do? He always knows what he wants to do. What do we do? Tell me!_

_I am a little uncomfortable, _Sarah told the Labyrinth, _you could tell him to help me up before I topple over. _

_Yes, help you up. Yes. Okay. _The Labyrinth turned its powerful attention on the Goblin King and shook the ground with its power as it roared at the Goblin King, **_HELP HER UP, YOU IDIOT!_**

The Goblin King reached down and lifted her up, his hands stabilizing her as Sarah wobbled a little. She raised a hand to her ear and rubbed as she smiled at the Goblin King.

_He is a little deaf, _the Labyrinth explained sheepishly.

"Thank you," Sarah told them.

"Do your ears hurt?" the Goblin King asked superiorly, his eyebrow twitching up.


End file.
